Confusion in Underground Clouds

The Calling

Etched lines of flesh

funneling the crimson, streaming lethe,

drops, dropping in cornered squares

I found myself on the wrong side 

of this salt line, lost, as the air divides

like shutters in a strong wind ripping

up shingles flapping like flailing guls

and then up it rose, 

and the thunder spoke;

                            ~

Oui. Je ai beaucoup d'yeux. Elles saignent dans les anneaux de fil.

Ja. Ich habe das Fleisch von den Fangen der Nacht zog 

                          ~

The band of light constricting breath tarnished

and flecks of rust fell like ash flakes in a burning dream

sacrificing Endemon

for the formless creep, creep out of the darkness 

from the cracked closet light

-the between- the boarders slide

around like fridge magnets under a pointed, 

invisible finger, pushing through a liquid mirror;

the firmaments swirl and blaze

I feel it searing down my throat, snakes writhing

in a pit 

venomous seething streams blister and bloat 

as eyes roll back to yellow white

I can feel the blithe demonic chords twining around my own;

one million paper cuts notch sallow veins

vochals tremble and refract as splintered sounds 

roiling from my boiling guts

and then release,

into the raw, sore, pink dust