Our Alchemical Separation
Our Castilian castle,
an Iberian stronghold
affixed onto clay shores
destined to be capsized
by tragedy’s
tidal waves
Our steeple’s lips grazed
the crystalline expanse,
before turquoise shards,
released from
the horizon’s tether,
tumbled upon our
red brick duvet,
our pastoral canopy
Interwoven with
the glassy unbinding,
here we are,
flailing raindrops
freefalling
from clouds of joy,
our screams
harmonizing with
Mother Earth's
nocturnal sonata
We are the vessels
plunging in unison
towards
the aqueous beyond,
yielding to
the oceanic barrel
that courses
down our throats.
As winter’s icy steps approach us,
we retrace our tracks,
Lo! We are the crystals
that glimmer in the
darkness of Muscovite winter,
Our rebirth is
a pristine samsara
shimmering the
barren earth’s desolation,
my dear, we are children
– dove-like infants
masquerading as
snowflakes
But our hands,
cease not
from soiling
our tabula rasa,
lacquering our slate
with terra cotta tints,
unstitched wounds
muddied
by nimbostratus secretions
I hone my aim,
my arrow's tip
finds the mark,
and pierces
supple leather binding
that confines
your very pages,
You ignite under
the shadow of
this scarlet eclipse,
ecstasy's wayward sparks
dancing across this
celestial stage
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