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Epistle XXVI - Towards the gates

Drops of 
brine-laden fluid
spurt forth from 
my brittle backbone, 
meandering between 
the cracks of your 
coral adorned lips, 

There, I find 
myself ensconced 
in an oyster 
by the slow churn of 
celestial metamorphosis, 
wallowing in my fervent 
longing to sprout from 
Hades' jaws 
as the Messianic pearl, 
nestled in the dove's talons 
as it soars above 
modernity's ash heap 
towards the gates of apotheosis

Copyright © Shiraz Bautista