Our Alchemical Separation

Our Castilian castle, an Iberian stronghold affixed onto clay shores destined to be capsized by tragedy’s tidal waves Our steeple’s lips grazed the crystalline expanse, before turquoise shards, released from the horizon’s tether, tumbled upon our red brick duvet, our pastoral canopy Interwoven with the glassy unbinding, here we are, flailing raindrops freefalling from clouds of joy, our screams harmonizing with Mother Earth's nocturnal sonata We are the vessels plunging in unison towards the aqueous beyond, yielding to the oceanic barrel that courses down our throats. As winter’s icy steps approach us, we retrace our tracks, Lo! We are the crystals that glimmer in the darkness of Muscovite winter, Our rebirth is a pristine samsara shimmering the barren earth’s desolation, my dear, we are children – dove-like infants masquerading as snowflakes But our hands, cease not from soiling our tabula rasa, lacquering our slate with terra cotta tints, unstitched wounds muddied by nimbostratus secretions I hone my aim, my arrow's tip finds the mark, and pierces supple leather binding that confines your very pages, You ignite under the shadow of this scarlet eclipse, ecstasy's wayward sparks dancing across this celestial stage