Crying Is But There…

Carrions carry blood tears
For faith and fate are but new constellations
heated melodies are never lost
past lives reincarnate in bones

The pitcher there is honeyed jar
licks like lies
on the mouth’s side
an incorrigible paramour
lust aboded
boarded
in beds
and sighs

Prickled sweat meets the brow-boat
skin knows of saltwater
oceanic is but solid waves
upon carts and fields
crops need nursing
limbs are bosoms
to feed earthen milk

The chalk dances with the black
Moon upon an awaiting black
like swirling dresses
stars see too
a skillful ecstatic
breathing on all
pools

Mortal weaver know not?
Life is but crying
in milk, honey, earth, water, blood woe and night
Luna etches and voices drown
intoxicate
sprites and fairies
all
galore…

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