dieties blame the tides of rain, the schism;
satan bares disease, the sable mess
of bile. nests of harm, a means of stress
the same as sears established mannerisms.
she builds hate, a bliss of ash and shame
to house the taste of bare and darted flesh
that rests on detested land. she rends the mesh
that ties back bullets, takes minimal aim.
heaven and hell in earnest idyll take sides
and eat the woman bare; her limbs are able
to sate the team, her heart a lantern for rest,
a beam to follow in search of fear. she dies,
is maimed for lack of love; is a seminal handle
on the earth, and she bleeds to die so blessed.