I have excused myself from ritual
In order to fortify the walls
Of the universe that swirls
Inside what is my soul.
The week has left its cracks,
Seeping joy in trickles,
Draining away much juice,
And I am gaunt with sour lips.
On this day when the hungry
Blackened earth smiles a wry smile,
For nearer is his claim
To this my consummating body,
I give way to one that will outlast the pulsating sun,
The burly wind that uproots and floods,
Even the jealousy of the cuckold.
I give way to see, to hold
The vessel-filler.
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