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~ By Courtesy of Others ~

 

Vigil Speak

Dim shadows
Smell of piss, shit, and fear.
The stinging drip of hate into a wood grained bowl.

Movements, whispers
Wipe the brow, smooth the hair
Muscles quiver in pain of eternal immobility.
Rearrange, shift.

Cold stone, iron entrails.
The binding that will be/is/was.

But soft whispers
Vigil speak.
The quiet laugh and tones of fondness.

He is bound but stronger here,
Stronger than elsewhere.
The good of Him lashed to the stone of despair,
Hatred of the world to pour.

This is where the humanity is hidden,
This is where His love is tied.
This is where all the goodness He can be is bound by a contemptuous world.

Dim shadows
Smell of piss, shit, and fear.
The stinging drip of hate into a wood grained bowl.

My love.

Salena Levy (aka Anderson)

Temple of the Flea

This work by Salena Levy is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs License.
 

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