Shrines are hopeful, the day eats travelers
all the grapes are sweet and almost as big as a doorway
the color of this red velvet when a water pool forms a path
furred at birth, disks on its fingers and toes its horns grow sideways
leather and gold jewelry soothing the frantic beast
love of the stars translated into desolation, marked
with oblique pale bars he'll jump out of the pit