Chapter Text
Think of it as a salve,
spread thin over skin toughened
with scars. Not softening,
nor stretching to bone
deep hurt. But to blanket
the fire across the fields you sowed
but never reaped.
Think of it as a mold,
black like soot fallen on wheat
overripe and wet. Desire
lying fecund and fallow, burnt
offerings to a Hippocratic
oath left unfulfilled.
Think of it as twilight,
lengthening shadows
creeping across abandoned
homes streaked with darkened
stains upon what honor
you claimed for yourself.
Think of it as the end,
of an innocence shattered
like so much stone. Footsteps
heavy with the weight of every
life left behind cleave deep
into the cold dark earth.