Winterkill

Two fingers in the Longinus wound Gesturing to a cosmic realm Through the veil of human flesh A universe is stored therein Where there is fire which gives off eternal light And there is an ocean which reflects the stars And there are roots like veins pushing through the earth And there are vast fissures where emptiness prevails Two nails through divinity’s wrists A human display of carnal malefaction Each palm weeping sacrosanct blood A karmic deficit wrought in deicide We are as bottomless vessels Wells siphoned from sacred springs We are as the crops and winter kill Heads bowed as split stems under snow Amongst the nerves of the world In blurred fragments of existence Among the static of night Stars become lost in the snowfall