Red Tales

And in honor of the ocean of blood that swept my name

I curse the grounds he walked on which has begone to an idle of rust and flames

To inscribe my mother’s maiden name

I pour light into this goblet of eyes chicaned

Salt foamed at the brim

Spirits toppling over the other, drowning in the sky

Come sweet insanity

Come invite her into your bedside

Hands arisen to gods laying up and rising below

Beckon the sculptors of the first century to rediscover

what has been hidden so long ago

Herbs, wine, storytellers alike

Gather and feast on this breast of a beggar’s pardon rite

Below

Below

Above

Ascend

Hear me sister he is dead

We have fed the lion and ensued rocks in his stomach’s stead

Fogs calling and parting their hems of dresses

Brown hair to fall on the cursed lap in corpse-kissed tresses

Goodnight

Goodbye

The world

Is but an ocean set alight

Good day

Poisoned fumes

He has painted my face green

And so I will turn him over inside the earth

with the red cloak he tied to my back

in the fairytale the undead rang true.