resound

We arrive in bright collision, we arrive awake and nameless, the stone rolled away and the world open wide. We come in shroud and shift, abruptly under judgement, the dice besides the bet. Here at last this moment under notice. Here at last the brink of long prophesied tomorrow, a catalog of skies and flowers, burning daylight in these dreams of favored flesh. Stitched in pitched algorithms, pooling into every abandoned step, this wash of want and way. We echo in the presence of these rituals we witness, gazing over the shoulder to catch the just missed moment, trailing words that circle back. We skate figure eights across the frozen lake, stack stones upon the beach only visible eagle eyed and mountain tall, speaking to our lost hearts like first gods. 

So we are revealed, revered in the rear view, known by the paths we travel. So we wear out names, these spells of blood and ghost, the listing of the ancestors by name and bone. Our tongues fold and linger, the stories go and go. A turtle or a pomegranate, a rabbit humoring death, the word worn shapes we make of the dark. The muddle of roads left shining stubborn in the tidal pool, every wave a still life spread around the space. The hungered after ripples that are only going away, the iteration hard clockwork and settled elements, prayers and spells and the ringing of bells. Comes the continuity through crack in the gutter, we abide the way of the weed.

From the blooming of the hills to the fallow in the fields, come flowers casting loves spells fairies fucking every forest, every ditch dirt and desert strewn with spirits giving this romance their all. These wheaten golds and honey clusters living in our blood and breath. This feast upon the bones of fallow titans, each appetite leading the world by its belly and its lust, rings of bronze and steel. The words give way as we walk the woods and haunt the forests,  breadcrumbs sprinkled from before the wandering, before we claimed victory being the only animal always lost. Oh, antecedent! Oh, thunder! Let us sound out across broad winter and through the riddle deep sea. Let the moon reflect our glory, humble in the hubris that we reap.