Khand (an eastern hagiography)

It happens when the godhood does, by natural occasion.
In the expulsion of myself from self, the tendon breaks as
Sword inflames and I – by manner of prevention – prevail
In ample measure to attend my choice in simple declaration
Of revolt: that I am wont to make – but still is made – as
I take to the pressure of an end that does not come, some
Comfort seen escaping me. My wrists now drawn in ink by
One who sees caress in stab, resistance in this acheing –
Punch and drench in whole of habit kept to feel like, liking
It., or, imagining perhaps: another way to seem relaxed
When faced with this decision. To exist as a man does or,
Chase transcendence down these measures purely for
The thrill of base (if strained) desire. With the hands of
A god, in the blood of a martyr – whatever we say is an
Act of restraint. Speaking less and less. Growing louder.


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