She persuades me to let her sage me before leaving
If it could save you and I didn’t, it would grieve me
Full sore, pray leeway
A spraying haze unabating, she an Aaron
Bathes me in miasmic armour
Dispelling harm by charm
She insists we wear amulets of her devisement
Eyes painted onto shell mottes, with dotted spirals
Motley assortment of curios affording shield divine
Apporting yet more clanking objects from a drawer
Lure argent, orpiment-ored, which piseogs skewer.
My disabled heart unable to discern kindness, appreciating nothing
A smile I cannot return then or now
The fixtures and firmities which endure us until the void are dull things
Reviled in my revolting eyes, rebels to heaven
I see guiles where none are
I pry away guises, thinking I have found a mask
Yet this blood which geysers out, real-seeming
I see fields burning behind the revels
An old soldier to trenches returning as mind’s dugout collapses.
Lips sabled by the operation
Syphoning petrol from a destroyed rover haunting the roadside
In void splashed mouth a strange metallic taste
Doing while able those things may save us, while sun shines hay baling
Something rotting inside, scything, stymies me mid-consignment
Blind man moleing toward lost glasses, palms flat damp grass
Lift off my ass, pressing webbed glass for purchase sucking out gas.
Alchemisland 
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