May 2025 – elancharan gunasekaran

through fangs through wounds a lullaby of what you lost

the pilgrim walks weightless as the rain beats down upon flesh like applause

there in the deep a creature whose very breath fogs the futures of predator and prey

spring the mist and hills conspire to trap you in their embrace

the view from titan’s crown: blood pools in the valley of the dead

rung after rung the pilgrim climbs the ribs of a decomposing god

flesh yearns for the gentle touch that splits sky and soothes bark

prayer burns behind eyes and turns air to glass mosaics

spring in the absence of light warm seas writhe in anger

you breathe in the last line and wonder if we can skip summer and go straight to autumn