Styx and Stones

A rose white, petals steeped

velvet curls underneath me

bedridden and do I sleep

the four corners of my head surrounded by dear oak

clasped tightly between my palms, a bouquet of wormwood

Atlas, do tempest dream

far avast in weary weaves

thread by thread

inch by inch

24 hours gone by

Long loss of luncheon, dinner, and supper

Last supper indeed

For the last airy breath did beseech

Life escape this stormy weather

Whether it be with eyes closed and heart stopped

And did the heart stopped

Yet the doll still moved

I live yet with the demons that stand in my shadow

And that shadow that resided in my mind

As I float along that river

Alongside the lotus that has kept me company

hidden within my depths

with wormwood still in my hands

and rose white, petals steeped in the bluest eternal flame

wrought and weaved about my head