restoring death to its abode

the throes of pale descend;
    a bone is wrought   this the wire where blood is vine   as fern-door tips
    open, the solitary dove coos   whose wish remains,

which house of worm witholds?
    as the cove of ground breaks open love buds   whose wish remains, which
    whorl of tincture roams? restoring death to its

abode   i as the stubbornness of
manhell climb out of nothing into
nothing   serpent! sway us
into call, strum the wet wood into
storm   smoke   mother!

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