it took me so long to realize
the way you held me down by the mouth
in mornings darkened by our own personal dawn
was the mark of the earth,
dirt beast of dream lives.
a spoken memory,
truer than news,
data decoded by the rupture of light
that tore the body you knew open within a year.
our history in cloaks,
in castles,
in milquetoast apartments that don't make sense
when you're old
and i'm young
and we are both worshipped.
the Stag arrives with the Hawk by the lake.
they hold my hand in the absence of you.
teach me patience.
we're both beasts in the end.
they look like mourners.
but so did we to everyone else in this year of grief.
i flattened myself on the floor,
my soul a gift to the Divine,
strings for whatever purpose is planned.
sacrifice of self
like when i submitted to you in the black bath
the night we started one conversation
and finished on two separate paths.
wet tub as my tongue took your fingers
staring into what seemed like eyes
but turned out to be the ground of me.
surrounding me,
i make sense under you,
for you,
as you.
it took me so long to understand
why we started one conversation
and the path revealed demons
like nicknames on playlists
but they were an elaborate scam.
surrendering to the blessing of deep dirt,
twisting morning turns out to be the definition
of all i was destined to find about
the Stag
and the Hawk
and who i am.