Supplication

tmkrdpyizstosqtdvogm

 

My mouth is my wound,

a stigmata of broken teeth

and words. My tongue’s slashed

like ribbons flapping

in the mountain’s wind.

My prayers snap violently

into the icy air’s silence.

 

I don’t know what to do

now: swallow my own

blood, and drown; or spit

my life onto the ground

to call forth a bitter

beast which I fear

will devour me whole?

 

(May 11, 2018)

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