face down
back of her head
before me

the part in her hair
almost
oracular
jagged line of white scalp
a lexicon i alone will never know

i palm it and push down
activating some strange fate

and with much trembling
i carve up into her

unknown rune
lit
spell of ruin
flushed
consumes our us
the crush begun

quickened flesh fiends the bone
and wipes the faces
we wear

inside the creases of us
lies bending curses that will purge
diagonals crisscross
ivy writhing
growing bolder

a swarm of form
shape-shifting tor

torn and torn and will
no more

And we
both become
transfigured
spent
two loosed beings again