Sunday, March 16, 2025

In the cast of wind carved bone
that brought a skin sail
with tortured eyes
to the brink of this fecund abyss
in a map of lilac

the womb heaped with ashen echoes
has stretched its catch tubes
under twisted bridges
pinning me to streams of dripping berries
thorny tongues of eternal lungs
flagging soil from ethereal space
the soul that's taken root
in this desire
winding water with fire
in a maze of smoke stained glass

colored coils of a sweetly sleeping dragon
veined catacombs digesting time
bronze corridors of blood like lime
this ligature of lips and vine
orgasmic death's deceiver
bent fingers on a harp of living gold

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