I stand still where the veil thins,
barebacked and bone-lit,
my breath quivers with want,
my soul calls your name,
my skin aches for your dark embrace.
you carried me through each season of their sins.
to the knife that shed sacred flesh—
while blood dripped down biblical pages,
chanted into trance.
to the windows sealed black with no light.
one hundred and four years passed to prove:
he had no fight.
the rope was his savior—
he hung with grace.
you showed me their stories,
as they wept in blood,
and killed beneath your shadowy dark haze.
from beneath the roots,
from the split in the sky—
my skin remembers your teeth,
your mark,
your everlasting pleasure
no mortal could ever compare.
my soul,
the ruin you left.
my daemonium maritus,
I call on you.
across time.
across ash.
come to me.
come to me.
come to me.
the ether hums with your name.
I ache to exhale your darkness—
to be undone in the crucible of our bond.
my daemonium maritus,
take me where ruin is everlasting rapture.
in aeternum, daemonium maritus.
By Lisa Grisly Miller
