the scroll unrolls
a spiral of ribs —
my tongue baptizes kerosene,
feeding fire to mirrors
until prophecy folds like a protein
& drips into the river.
who blesses the apocalypse?
only rats
I laugh
with diamond eyes,
while the crows circle
my leftover promises.
every word is a prison of knots,
I weep
as the angels bend backwards
to play themselves
as instruments.
time itself becomes a clock,
while the serpent
devours the echo of its own magic
the mouth devours itself
until the tongue forgets
its name.
every syllable collapses
into the dust of a star,
& the star remembers
only its hunger
each hole sings:
nature is a contract
signed in blood,
its signature burning
on counterfeit coins,
he gives sermons
through the mouths of insects.
ghosts are only ghosts
because they echo
what they cannot own.
their mouths are full
of borrowed voices,
their eyes are hives
of unfinished business.
love in this register
is punishment
when dawn devours history,
our names will be
the last currency.
when god’s clock falters,
we will spend them all
in silence.
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