Good catch — fixed below.
the martyrer (revised, 2025)
come with me, as you are — the open wound of morning
screens burn like votive suns, the martyrs scroll, they double-tap their names
dyscopic eyes, the silence in the star-martyr’s song
now amplified by a thousand quiet hospitals
windows stacked with beds and white-noise prayers
we counted breath in sockets, then the sockets closed
shooting stars between the rain, the echo:
a map of ash and service alerts, red pins on coastlines
the famine of summer follows the flood’s second mouth
old maps sell for nothing in the currency of drowned towns
soldiers kneel in ruined airports, drones circle like new apostles
the sky writes treaties in contrails, then erases them with fire
children cross borders with their names sewn into their sleeves
war itself baptizes them in smoke, ordains them in silence
the pimp, the christ, the priest on livestream
the merchant with a ledger for lungs, the judge who tweets mercy
our children packaged as notices: missing, displaced, unclaimed
inverted martyr, the punisher of evil has always been a machine
measuring grief that auctions it back as spectacle
you get owned on your needs and pray into the comment field
your penitence becomes a product, your grief a trending hashtag
we baptize one another in the ruins, naming the dead
we braid our vows with cables, vow them to iron
bring your empty pockets, your unreturned prayers
let us burn the ledgers and stitch the maps back to flesh
let our martyrs be the last religion we practice
our last god of shame.
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