Studies in Sobriety Poetics Donate.
         
     

That Hill

 

     

The Seers have told us this Oh high One:

The door was unlocked, it did not come in
   he walked out of it in dreams.
There is a barren field; they meet on a hill
  He speaks to it - it speaks to him.
Into the vessels and chalices did he pour
   his own essence into the cup.

He offers it to her on the hill; holds it
   to her lips that she may drink.
She sates her thirst; he sates his hunger
  There is a dagger between them
but like liquid silver does it dissolve
   into them when they embrace.

"Is she the Demoness you spoke off?"
   We do not know Oh High One -
She appears as a priestess scarred -
  the wounds open and close,
from their mouths comes out a butterfly
   into heirs belly button did it fly.

                 {[.-.]''''[-.-]}
                 {[-.-]..[.-.]}

We saw not the colours or patterns of it
   There is now a moth in their eyes.
It is devoured in a sea of bluelit flames.
  It is still only the fourth day.
There is a banner now - Oh Noble Spirits
   they raised a banner on the hill.

       
 
         
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