Hanged by the neck until ye are dead—
Drowned for drowning a drowner—
Yowling into the Pit.
Drooling and fondling another gaping maw, adamantine and singular.
A grunt and a hiss and the mountains quiver—
A glower from on high and the firmament thins—
—the stars leak their suffering light and nether it seeps.
Once we walked on the diamond shores of some transfinite primeval lake,
And plucked every leaf from a titanic, terrible oak
And I mentioned the spider
And the color left your face
And your eyes rolled up
And your tongue hung out
And your teeth chittered and cracked and shattered
And bleakbile erupted from your chest
And ye waved good-bye-you
And I waved back
And I kissed your cheek
And ye were so awfully cold
And ye whispered—yes, whispered, despite your screaming,
“I have tasted thee and know what thou really art.”