Entries for 7th Oct 2019
From my throat came the sky
and my feet pressed the tears
that fell down my cheeks
into grains of dust to form
earth
I light the pyre
breathe in
and sing black sound
It pierces, diffuses,
sussurates, suffused with
blood, the taste of metal.
Spat on. The throng continues,
unconcerned, gazing. I coat them with ash
And they press diamonds