from hades. why do i identify with that stone bastard so full heartily?

to persephone

strong

the depth

to this circadian rhythm--

its dance

haunts

the vein.

a pulse

against itself,

the figure

of lying infinity,

lying

alone:

we are joined;

your heart

beats as

mine; i

touch it

here within.

feel the

pulse press

into the skin of

my panting love.

i have called up

the dying gods

of winter

to lay me before

the bruise-shadow

of your feet,

the shadow

that crests

your footprint.

thus

memory intersects

thirst,

thus draws out

the falsely

infinite: the touch of your lips

against themselves. you close your

mouth, and summer comes.