Blackblood: The Window [Sub-sonnet III]

Dennis L. Siluk

Disdainful dust, comes within an hours rush
You will be weight and brought to bed with him.
When you are dead, no more storm-filled eyes:
When your blood will roar and roar, yet be rust
This moment, plainly visible like green grass
The world will sing in delight of your past.
Your body’s heat and sweat desirous
A shameful kiss, obscure—from Satan’s mist;
Wherewith you, you will remain powerless—
To evoke, choke yourself from the whims of court.
Your bewildered dead heart will have no peace
Fluttering at the ravished winds of time:
Cry, cry as you may, cry will not let you go
For you are the fluttering beat by the window.

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