The Milling of Mind

Unrealities and realities grind together in mortar’s mouth, spilling, pulverizing, volatile perfumes— succumbing scents of citrus, crushed copper, musks of bruised lightning, threshing thunderous throbs. Instability incarnate sings her reveling wails, fragrances of something Beyond Name. I guide existences into black curve, severing them against sharp, obsidian walls, letting them rupture—letting them bleed —syrups and statics— messy marrows of forgotten equations. Their shapelessness mutable, pliant pages to pulp in the plunge of the merciless pestle. How many combinations will one blend and crucify— to crush, to coax, into coherence? Rasps of bone bend against sanguine salts, sheens of opulent oil merge with ember embryo— iron filings licked into life by tempests reigned. Anything of matter becomes moisture—mass—mold— hunger pooling at my basin’s heart, seething for impending strike, for sudden and unforgiving birth.