by MW

A Girl In The Palace Of The Gods:


Spider-silver, spun out in diamonds and


The damp blackness of the ceiling,

The cracked granite and emeralds blossoming


The lapis lazuli eyes of the beast set, thalassic,

In the depths of stone. In the abode

of the gods, the earth splits and

sea roils above blistering fractures. In

that yawning abyssal volcanic-glass black

plumes rise towards undulate jade from the

flint-struck incense and cleaved-heart sacrifice,

earth's basalt sternum.


Up here, the waves of frustrated

serrate-tipped leaves and dissolving

rain wears down centuries. There is silence,

drip. No magma-veined creations,


a girl, young, slumbering in the

less supported corner, near a balanced broken rock,

hair tossed across shoulders,

breath a ventilation of storm,

under the skin a thundering mantle of life.



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