january

pale horse rots

in your cardinal song

decimated under how you obey

splintered and condemned

daughterless under your wing

where i hemorrhage and divide

pen letters to the brush fires

about the sharpness of your teeth

call you a vampire

but you are mother of the clay

bloody hook anointed rose-gold

sent to flay the sick from my flesh

to feed holy fires

go now where you have been called

and answer to the love you are commanded

like live-wires, indiscriminate

through rigorous discernment

unflinching at the bay

of the screeching riptide void

where He will use your hands

to redeem my heart’s child