cold.

[for_thebirds]

the ghost of my flesh
is haunting this chest
weeping vehemently
"awake, o death!"

groans of victory
annihilate this futile plea
wrestling with humility
driven by vanity

sackcloth
painted ash
i am
job's lying conscience

guilded heart
harlotry
i am the whore
whom hosea wed

damned to death
raised in light
manifest, manifest
o, perplexed israelite!