Epistle Xxi - the Oil To Eden

(I) I am the palatine oil the astral gift rumbling your skeletal tree’s truncated trunk, each reverberation of your sacral chakra pleading you to unfurl your dormant wings and soar above animalism’s aridity (II) I am the shamanistic secretion, the nascent sprout that blossoms into a tsunami that pounds rusted nails into your bloodied flesh (III) I am your renunciation the nourishing fruit of bitterness calling you closer towards Eden, each pulpy bite mirroring the skunk’s olfactory repellent, a blistering musk fortifying you against Bubonic malaise