raise high, the roof-beam
mounting the fiery stream
burning the windows, burning
the death-devout silence,
burning the disquiet on the pyre
of ourselves — darkly halved,
lightly complete; the operant
rose is ready to roam the immortal garden and no petal will perish,
no moan of thorn will be heard,
raise high, the roof-beam.
your lifest breath and all that is not,
emerging supreme against all
smallness and rotund, no bells bellow
the bickering name, or the defunct
subterfuge of O God dancing to
sew His name augured. raise high,
the roof-beam the monolith of your
body's never-ending groove
waving me across all the world
no sojourn could annul — once
mortally blessed and twice naive.
it is our rite of spring, what the wind
wields a strange horror's sound summoning a dark-trilling raven.
waters princely kneel in the sheer
dark's afterthought when my clothes
fail me evermore. it is our life
singing separately: morning, and the divided evening. the knowledge of scepter is passed on to the ignorant
now all-knowingly removing all dress
and the glint of crystal-moments.
raise high, the roof-beam, o luminous ire
fulgent light and our foetal coil
an angel to whisper an arrival
from the fall, the roof-beam, raised
high forever.
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 2:28 AM UTC
raise high, the roof-beam
mounting the fiery stream
burning the windows, burning
the death-devout silence,
burning the disquiet on the pyre
of ourselves — darkly halved,
lightly complete; the operant
rose is ready to roam the immortal garden and no petal will perish,
no moan of thorn will be heard,
raise high, the roof-beam.
your lifest breath and all that is not,
emerging supreme against all
smallness and rotund, no bells bellow
the bickering name, or the defunct
subterfuge of O God dancing to
sew His name augured. raise high,
the roof-beam the monolith of your
body's never-ending groove
waving me across all the world
no sojourn could annul — once
mortally blessed and twice naive.
it is our rite of spring, what the wind
wields a strange horror's sound summoning a dark-trilling raven.
waters princely kneel in the sheer
dark's afterthought when my clothes
fail me evermore. it is our life
singing separately: morning, and the divided evening. the knowledge of scepter is passed on to the ignorant
now all-knowingly removing all dress
and the glint of crystal-moments.
raise high, the roof-beam, o luminous ire
fulgent light and our foetal coil
an angel to whisper an arrival
from the fall, the roof-beam, raised
high forever.
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