from the pit
Up to my ankles. Who am I, unstable as my shadow gleams with thunder; Polar ice caps for knees and an unruly claim to royalty? How will I ascend the mountain I fell from. How have hackles, caw and divination spoken from beneath the mouths I’ve hushed and laid aside to sleep? I will untie the martyrs chafed hands and scurry the animals that beg to lick his wounds. I lay here aside from divinity, where only dogs remain.
