he saw
witnessed
His
arms and legs hewed
His heart split
and approaching Him
he could not take his eyes off His
they
should have been dead
gone out
yet
as His blood went flat
turned
black
cooled
His humors slick
like
lamp oil
steeped and
spoiling into the earth
and
the earth
always
a happy willful mouth always willing to embrace any lust given it
His eyes
in His eyes
those
hardwood embers
there remained a willing
an
electric brilliant blue quivering
the vagrant ashes groped
attempting to coalesce over Him
over
His sheared wounds
trying
desperately to blacken and suffocate them
close them under like cold dark
waters
take forsaken kittens in stoneweighted sacks to the slimy bottoms of
fetid ponds
the ashes wanted Him snuffed
His sputters and itching spasms stilled
vying deep
deep inside their cool stone limbs and torso
His intricate wired currents refused
His stern body struggled
defying Death
the Hermit erred
he was unwise
too
Happy too Elated too hasty using his Light blade
to
relish his revenge
cauterize
His wounds with wont to watch His body
rendered
Unmercifully
into
living pieces
the Hermit unable to resist
his pleasure
and Obscenity
and erred
his cleaves and splits
their
blunt ends
fired
black
the nerves
writhing beneath
alive
they
fingered and picked at His wounds
His nerves prying apart
the solder
from inside out they teased and pushed and pulled
and the hard-ash clinging
to the Smotes
the
hard-ash softening their torture weakening
their horrible burns proving inept
unable to repel the steady vehemence
of His gorgeous
blue rage
His stumps begged
and
as tar oozes atop the oilygreen surfaces of retching tarpits
the
harsh black scars warmed
grew elastic and began to stretch
His wounds mewed through
pinholes and scant schism
and their mewing was heard by
the Wind
It bore them to Boreas
Its fomenter for him to listen
to
hear the brave Wounded cries
and Boreas laying with Pitys was
enraged
and he returned the Wind to Him
to swab and minister His blackened
purple stumps with its salty breath
and Wailing
the
Wind threw its strong pity on Him
Its
pity delicious and wet
and the stranger
the witness
watched the Wind
reassemble
Him
and fill the billows of His
lungs again
with
Life-rendering Air
2103, Saturday,
2 8. 14
