“Across the trackless / waste, blindest ruin / wearing the shape of / vandals makes no haste / hesitate laying / waste to this disgraced / place where my outlawed / magic…”

“The fire of my hell burns brighter / with your image, in response to your touch / my body’s tremor proclaims yet / another deity’s dread arrival // we…”

“Prince of a dead race, / you call my love a / lie best understood through my / fires, disasters which trigger the / rhythms of my instincts, excoriating…”

“Two authorless manuscripts, orthodox / unto ourselves, downed prophets who / pronounce the books of the zodiac, how / history happens forwards, but // is written backwards, and read…”

“Skull without a jaw, / silent belligerent, make me / come as hard as / you make me cry / along the road which / passes your grave, a / man…”

“No history swallowed your identity whole, / trust, mister, this abyss of your / absence is astonishing, though I must / admit I’m just happy to constellate / in…”

“Created sick and commanded / to be well, the / way vice serves to / exert in our world / Nature’s purpose, surrounded by // a cradle of cliffs, / how…”

“Be Catholic. Do damage. / (A thrown shape says, unprompted, / unaided.) Messianic, / secret. Estranged from pages. // Blankest-faced as feet erased / from the metric. Re-versed vs. / ‘Litigious…’”

“Watching you pearling out, I wonder, / how do you like being / a gem on a strand of lovers? Now, / tying up fraying threads, // extending a…”

“And when the crack in the wall closed, / a voice in the well echoed out— / caramel fairy looking for / someone’s mouth to melt in, sickly…”

“A slow burn, but with a pace / that didn’t keep, whispers in / an ossuary, we both / choregraph a useless // manuscript, as bled regrets / gather choking…”