The intense yellow sun was high in the sky. The fields were hot and the earth burned the feet of the men running in front of him – they wore no shoes and no one knew why.
There were fifteen of ... [+]
There were fifteen of ... [+]
I would live in perpetual darkness
Knowing you by touch alone—
A relief of scales, a battle-scarred carapace
Wrapped around your fiery bones.
The mist would cling to us
Like a skin after I sloughed mine off.
In relentless fog, I would teach myself rebirth
Away from curious eyes.
You would know me by touch alone—
Raw skin, sticky ectoplasm
As I learned to reconstruct myself
In the cradleland of blind prophets,
Penumbral dreamtides,
And abyssal monsters
Of which I would love you most.
Knowing you by touch alone—
A relief of scales, a battle-scarred carapace
Wrapped around your fiery bones.
The mist would cling to us
Like a skin after I sloughed mine off.
In relentless fog, I would teach myself rebirth
Away from curious eyes.
You would know me by touch alone—
Raw skin, sticky ectoplasm
As I learned to reconstruct myself
In the cradleland of blind prophets,
Penumbral dreamtides,
And abyssal monsters
Of which I would love you most.
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