Vrykolac

or, Satan Exulting Over Adam

the age it brags – it drags ascended as the low may go,
a mid may venture down ecstatic path, ascetic entered
into vicious route, contempted absolute – best as may
be tempted by a man within his right – his study for a
Christ denounced as orthodoxish pride, correct to the
illusion of a point he makes in spite, spit and speaking
loudly. so emerging from the depth – wet and carrying
the head of man who did baptise us, and yet: does still
surprise us by: this way he moves in. failing discourse
or, insemination – of a flim in false ideal, frail in forced
appeal to say – you’re better as a rookie may our Lord
ship show you mercy. it is confidence you say is earned;
soft of lip where you have turned from matter, all this
sullen waste. breath through which replacing me has
been (at best) severe, sincerely disheartening. growth
it does you well but feeling small is not of size; it tears
from something inside. you’re clothed in shoe of straw,
eschewed and raw from absence; yet nothing speaks
of turbulence as well as you supine.

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