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88 words 88 words
Published 8 years ago
from the mulled rain

in the quiet of absence

a turtledove flew into my heart 

bruising its flight within my chest

cooohr, cooohr rings out in echoes

against the rib-vaulted narthex

waxed liquid jewels spilt over the altarcloth

earthquake and tsunami waking

to rolling thunder, lava sparks and hisses

rushing spiced blood streams

drumming in ears

whispers chased into chrysalis

and pupate, turning

a thousand times, and

a thousand, thousand more 

flames given wing at rain's suggestion

a foretaste, smelted on the tongue

transmuting a common wine


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