The Pleated Shell



Marked inside by a lion of tears
Running in uneven rivets
Down the side
the river of the hillside
Killed! Killed!
At sunset,
Her blood spreading across the horizon.
A changed seeping of fire.

Going from bird to me,
The wooden cabin has left.
Gone with the horses as they ran
I think that way too:
Running into the wild.

Harsh on me,
Inside the tortiose,
The pleated shell.
Carve into it,
It needs to hurt, it needs to feel pain
If you go to find it
It will surely come running
The darkness that is frightening to you,
That makes you shudder and kill,
That hurts your eyes with its stars.
You damn it,
Buy it a sun.
The fire, it brightnes,
And the other passes out.
A cry from a shimmer
Echoes across the canyon.
A deep blare in my ear.
Help me find you.