like wounded beasts we writhe in the pale fire of morning
Tag: art
the last warm tide of summer brings fishsong to frail bodies
the act of breaking morning dew releases the voice of the divine held within
from a black river the pilgrim crawls out with a forbidden fruit clutched between teeth
get dressed she said: the void wrapped himself in cosmic fire
petals hum in heat and the horizon bleeds forever
the grey creeps across the concrete paradise and traps us in bed
the self sustaining stain on my soul with each written word a painless pleasure
phantasmal candles flicker and phase at the divinity’s altar
the weight of prayer peels the cathedral revealing bones and sinew of living gods
elancharan gunasekaran 