through fangs through wounds a lullaby of what you lost
Month: May 2025
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