tessellated,
like endless inlays
pearl-in-ebony near-violet,
tracing each line in
night-milk and moon-blood
sealed,
salved with wounding
dove-on-barb, with
dozen-handed smile,
where saltdark
breaks red on morning,
אברה (wingeater)
fresh laceration–
redwritten secrets blossom
from old scartissue
Silby
hesitant, clot-prone
texts tongued red with oxygen
bloom across new scars—
אברה (wingeater)
torturously slow,
parted lips descending like
ragged red ruin,
Silby
[] neither torture nor[] gray[] wound[] grown red and raw[] abstract[] and sensitive[] misplaced word[] like a bleeding[] mouth[] I loved, love, and shall love[] him.[] hip-[]mauve [] glass[] sunbirds[] in dreams of you,[] on my body[] an extract[] tasting of[] ruin[] in her blue[] blending[] blood
