Every Sunday before a golden monstrance
Fronted with monstrous beetling jewels
As His firmament-fixed feet seat upon
Praying clemency constantly, saintly intercession
Holy bleeding hands feet head body’s ceiling
Impression unseen but felt of hands miraculous
Fathomless mysteries fleeting
Pleasing minds so lacking tender feeling
Peeling beads like a holy abacus counting pealing
Angelus bells, hand of soon-phantom elderly evangelist
Hands lined, hard sheath, crowning cracking wrists
Years twisting filth from sheets.
Alchemisland 
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