David Hay
Roll over the night

flakes of stars fall
through atmospheres of crimson hate.

I wept the symmetry of stars

through the congregation of clouds
crawling like worms across the sky,
I worshipped each leaf
coating the ash covered floors.

in the asylum of Eden
I conversed with Eve about the phallic symbol that taught her sin.

graceless as a falling toddler
she whispers words not bound by human tongue:

Pure I came,
Pure I died
Flotsam floated by carried by each Germ coated tear
Pure I came,
Pure I die
Sin lies only in god’s eyes.

toothless she mimics the crow
before her lungs bloom with woodlice
and her eyes once as innocent as eternity
are encircled by white roses
implanted in dirt