Dunes

⋰⋱⋰⋱⊹∙⩪∙⊹⋰⋱⋰⋱ Footsteps on the kiln, dust tasting of rain, Juniper in winter, bitter on the vein. Copper-blood horizon humming through my teeth, Saffron on the breath, shadow underneath. ⋱⋰⋱⊹∙⩪∙⨪∙⩪∙⊹⋰⋱⋰ Tongues of clay, drums of wire, Ashen wind, electric choir. ⋱⋰⋱⊹∙⩪∙⨪∙⩪∙⊹⋰⋱⋰ Take me to the crossing where the dunes turn glass, Throat of the cyclone, let the hours pass. Bone-flute calling through a lattice of fire, Skin learns thunder, hunger learns the lyre. ⋱⋰⋱⊹∙⩪∙⨪∙⩪∙⊹⋰⋱⋰ Kettle of the stars, boiling without light, Sand-worn numerals, carved into the rite. Goaded by the pulse, thorns arranged in rings, Ivory machines teaching flesh to sing. ⋱⋰⋱⊹∙⩪∙⨪∙⩪∙⊹⋰⋱⋰ Tongues of clay, drums of wire, Ashen wind, electric choir. ⋱⋰⋱⊹∙⩪∙⨪∙⩪∙⊹⋰⋱⋰ Take me to the crossing where the dunes turn glass, Throat of the cyclone, let the hours pass. Bone-flute calling through a lattice of fire, Skin learns thunder, hunger learns the lyre. ⋱⋰⋱⊹∙⩪∙⨪∙⩪∙⊹⋰⋱⋰ Heel to heel, heel to hand, Tar and milk and iron sand. Market of the teeth, barter of the breath, Dance with the axis, bargain with death. ⋱⋰⋱⊹∙⩪∙⨪∙⩪∙⊹⋰⋱⋰ Call: Saltless tide, black juniper bloom. Response: Open the gate, unseal the room. Call: Bronze-wing fever, carbon rain. Response: Teach me the code, erase my name. ⋱⋰⋱⊹∙⩪∙⨪∙⩪∙⊹⋰⋱⋰ Take me to the crossing where the dunes turn glass, Throat of the cyclone, let the hours pass. Bone-flute calling through a lattice of fire, Skin learns thunder, hunger learns the lyre. Take me, take me, silverened and bare, To the engine’s prayer, to the animal stair. ⋱⋰⋱⊹∙⩪∙⨪∙⩪∙⊹⋰⋱⋰ Pulse on the rim of the earthen bowl, Future in the mortar, grinding the soul. When the wheel bites through to the marrow’s hymn, I am the rattle, I am the skin. ⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰∙⊹∙⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱ 🏜️ © 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟝 𝔼𝕔𝕝𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕔 𝕎𝕙𝕚𝕫