Fire-scorcher
Heaven was a hostility of light
like a blood sacrifice
desire choreographed us
into catastrophe
I held reliquaries of stillborn figs
we were lion lambs
ambushed in the starving seasons
months like sinkholes
Magdalena of moth wings
I was a revenant in rapture
from the necromancer moon
if a wishbone was the origin of the world
it was devotion to devastation
I dreaded
Possession
by the zealots of heaven
my redeemer—the Fury!
I feared the enchantments
I was a sibyl of no consequence
there were screams in summer’s sacrament
vanishing like vapor on the roads
and I chose
to be wounded
as an ornament of God