Cusp

Animation, failing the rage you envisioned
Head arched back, legs forward. There is much to attend.
Hitched up to bare your scattered muscles for the night
Clasping dreams, fervent innocent expulsions, gestures
Can we take it, can we rifle its skin, wrinkle its past time, rub its hue onto our eyes
Gleam with it, bare down, its in the mouth- great soft maw, red roses of burial
And all unearthed
I can taste the heat of its arising, the musk and stench of its memory renewed and followed
Ritual has no place in this quick riot, this barren rut of absolute rising.
Shock.
We cannot maintain that innocence, nor suffer the serenity it bares, teeth outstretched to gore the one dissonant note in our arrival, glittering with inviting holes, carvings, spilling sweet juice of frenzied discontent, our promise here
And all synthesized, collapses with our brows
Sublime rains I cannot touch or quench this burning of air tearing unfamiliar, sweeping estranged skin better left
Relieve nothing, or relieve it hollow, so young, so promised
Undone!- running my hand in spirals, buried to my neck in the hot beating womb, this image that will not cease
Wailing for the curse I had not questioned
Spread open, stiff, tumescent twitching
Waiting to be speared, spared
Saved! Ha! Nothing but the cool night dry with animal remorse
To meet me, an indifferent rain that strokes my skin alive, pricked up raw, rubbed red, untouchable. Successful!
Pain searing like laughter, remains of spurting wine, white desecrations told in bones laid out for a waiting altar, grace
Our solemn cacophony, rhythm in moans, screams, breath unveiled for the endless opening now, the final damned revelations trailing back from golden ages,
What dust!
Symbols born hard, naked exposures that will not fade, bleaching my skin marked, distant at last, I need not escape, so reamed and hidden now with sweat, pulsing throbs of drums run out my temples
It all ends in a single word.
Now.
A burning implosion, charred arms flipped up limp, sorrowing, trailing strings of flesh
Reeking of flowers piled in my hair, lips, divulged from my stomach, eyes glazed, a strange pale color fierce in their drift
A series of motion, pallid, sick
Pull away for lips alive, flooding with mute exaltations and lament for the grip that moved this purity, this prostrating and terrible upheaval littered around with voice, singing bodies mired in a sheer light, turned red and inflamed, the mystery we begged off gods embodied whole, shattering now separate from their wet skin, their lips swelled purple with incensed offerings
And war to keep our eyes clear and colorful
Now, collapsed in my flooded stomach, we find mystery to be merely the wild of their breath
But what riots! What intoxications! Stripping our clothes down for sacrifice, fruitful rages, the lonely rants of a dying god, lying in his coherency
What can I recall to match his splendor?
This unfolding limp of a flaccid tongue, exhausted by the weight of this revival, flat with the dust that spills out to cool this rapid immolation,
This strange piercing sorrow, cast out
Dazed, barren, starkly animal without the quiet shrieks of shrill infancy we prized, we compromised!
Youthful, matched to a draining world now struck timeless,
Great stones! Stiff icons! Dying ciphers! Grant me one more minute to relieve my questions here, perfect my art of idiocy.
Silence, and now, having expelled the dawn I squandered, the last dream tasteless on my tongue. A cloying hunger
I chew my lips, biting, irascible
I hate the lips that spilled such promises, such hopes of absolution in this fog, this burning touch and haze, this fractured transcendence!
But what escape!
I cannot find the old words to dream with, to move my legs trapped panting in a descent I had not glimpsed
Filmed in the color and haze of all this dreams gone by, those rifled sacrifices
Skin steams in the icy air with wild possibilities coiled in strange textures, hints of joy caught in still joints, hollowed bones jutting confused in the air at this surrender we can not conceive, this passion that can not bare our image
I’d hate to be lost to this lingering sun, baring my back forever to it
Staring forever at the one thing not crushed in my fists,
Its jaw broken and hanging in a vicious grin, vacuous reminder of my escape-
So long.
I’ll never live so long but through my refuse
Watching it blind, unfold through this scorching dawn.