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Rid me of this awful frame, Wander from atop this pyre

by Endciv

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1.
a swell of limb pervasive snare splintering bow fertility passed sometime in the night burning cathadra ascent from a crimson sheet looming thick wheel of iron encompassing everything dead wood dried ink divesting feathers from the finches frame where it lay feeble shades of scarlet reverie dead wood dried ink waning paragon i will lay with you til the mornings avowing light teaches me the architecture of our pulsing hearts til our garden is rife with snow til i no longer recall the hollow shape of certainty or the depth and direction of your hastened footprints or the narrow path that leads out to the sea
2.
ride me of this awful frame wander from atop this pyre quivering doe you wrapped her in damp cloth and sang "i bring only what the jackals left in their dens" splintering bone, dried husks, and torn rinds wilting with the lie of fertility steadfast as nothing the well dries the stones crack i dig and dig our garden lies barren your gown torn in ashes but a bleeding bed remains a lantern left upon your sill the night was long i could not stay a tired mare with broken hooves i could not love you in the ashen light of morning when the new day avows the harsh metals of our graying features and the disparate mounds where you buried the last when the new snow is shed do not tread upon it
3.
Miasmic Gown 02:29
in a jar she kept its stillborn roots and stripped its bark from me the dregs of a cradle im swallowing splinters and scraping the dry rot from my gums no resonance dragged from this wooden maw could shape a statuette or sonnet merely a maladroit farewell left to decompose upon torn shards of parchment miasmic gown atop our naked thatching feeble loom i strung your heathers like frail tendons clinging to a rivers bed

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released November 21, 2013

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Endciv Poultney, Vermont

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