Chickens Hatching

Even when there remains

nothing left to say,

our silence can prove to be

the weapon of gold

that helps to save

lost souls in the end.

There is no war

righteous enough

to convince me

to flick my tongue

in anger

or pick up a sword

in disgust

this time.

All of my dragons

lay out slain

behind me

on the path;

their bones buried

beneath the ash.

We breathe this sacrament

of sacred fire

into our lungs

together as One;

and now

only parasitic

mosquitos remain

to be slaughtered

until we have recovered

all of the blood

from generations

they’ve tried

their damnedest

to taint.

Victory was bred

into our destiny

from the very beginning;

thank God the fervor

of fate

has finally

come home to roost.

---

Cuddling Transcendence

 

The contours of your face

are silken smooth

with amber blushing hues

rosy on the cheeks