Mantid

[Aish]

The end is embedded in the beginning:

My squall bites in unholy rage,
acid rain against the quarried walls

crumbled at the foot of my heart,
which beats to spite me.

My death has yet to deliver my life,
and I am poised
to forget long days
and endless summers.

Rain pops like hot grease
against the fake sky of my room.
I feed off false warmth and stale iron.

Blood in my mouth.

Still no howl,
where my soul is stone
or a pillar of salt.

You be Sodom, and I'll play Gomorrah,
trapping would-be trespassers and tourists.

The desert was as close as I came
to the sea.

Winter turns a book of faith
into myths of transformations.

I long to crystallize,
coaxed out of rock and sea stars
and return -

as elaborate architecture.

I could bloom from the ancients
and emerge
with an elongated body and wings.

A mantid.
Enigmatic, yet uneloquent.









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Original:
The end is embedded in the beginning:

So it should come as no surprise
my squall bites and stings in unholy rage,
acid rain against the quarried walls

crumbled at the foot of my heart,
which beats to spite me.

My death has yet to deliver my life,
and I am poised
to forget long days
and endless summers.

Rain pops like hot grease
against the fake sky of my room.
I feed off false warmth and stale iron.

Blood in my mouth.

Still no howl,
where my soul is stone
or pillars of salt.

You be Sodom, and I'll play Gomorrah,
trapping would-be trespassers and tourists.

The desert was as close as I came.
To the sea.

Winter turns a book of faith
into myths of transformations.

I long to crystallize,
coaxed out of rock and sea stars
and return -

as elaborate architecture.

I could bloom from the ancients
and emerge
with an elongated body and wings.

A mantid.
Enigmatic, yet uneloquent.