The River is Dreaming

I oblige you no longer.

This song flows with embers from a melting rock;
It is cold as the peace by which trammeled opposites search for honor's desired unity.

(Famine will sell its bonds even to occult guides, giving
No reason to like pain, which runs to asherah with lowered jaws.)

Pockets of acrimony are left for me to inspect.
Because they do not suffice, I pour art into
Streams wandering the abyss.

The auk framed her extinction with a soft murmur; I stay to give fists to my hopes.