Hide
The river will feast upon your daughter;
Their tongues lap malleable, his throat stuffed with rue.
A torchlight anthem carried atop the water.
The saints’ stirring falters, a percussion of laughter,
(Deep beneath the sky, I’ll hide away from you.)
The river will feast upon your daughter.
In waves my dirty tresses trill, acrid with tongue’s mortar,
His words, empty bells that have fallen too:
A torchlight anthem carried atop the water.
Moon’s shadow softens on love’s waves quick to torture:
The stupor of songbirds marooned in dew:
The river will feast upon your daughter.
A prayer rests on my petal globe that begs for your slaughter,
It is not ring nor promise that rest on finger blue.
A torchlight anthem carried atop the water.
Where blue carnations grow through torpor;
In God’s retreat black eyes spill true.
The river will feast upon your daughter.
A torchlight anthem carried atop the water.
The Kindling 