God is a whalefall

(1.)                 

it must have been
stars
embalmed
in
tears of amber
                        somewhere
that dreamt you into being.

a storm forgotten
forged long ago
in the shattered heart
of a God in torpor

                        restored
                  freckle by freckle
                            and
                  ember by ember

Daughter,

here I name you
        io
avenger of light
and last of her kind

long
may you reign.


(2.)

love
is a pearl

tucked beneath
the black wing
of the siren
called nightfall

                    something
                    by which she lures
                    us angels of death
                    into the depths
                    of an unrelenting hunger
                    greater than our own.

where all gods
are born nude
warmed only
by the blood of a mother.


(3.)

and mother is God

                              and
                                    mother
                                                is
                                                  whalefall

and you and I
are just dreams
beating at her broken heart

and you and I
                      are just fireflies
haunting the very fabric of darkness

                    tiny
                          bioluminescent
                                                    wounds

hanging still
within in the torrent tides

of her never ending silence.


(4.)       

and her silence fits
in the space
that divides
your dreams
from your eyelids

and her silence
makes of every life
                              a brevity
on the forked tongue of time.


(5.)
                              and time
is a dancer
                                                              forever

              falling from your arms

                              and time
is a dancer
                                                              forever

              falling from your arms

                              and time
is a dancer
                                                              forever

              falling from your arms

who
with a cruel sense of humor
grew poppies
as scar tissue
over the war torn fields of mars.


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