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Bragi bleedsthe serpent and the succubus are baring polished fang for you. I caught the faintest glimmer of greylight off their ruby-blue metal surfaces. I heard the sheaths' whispering to me again last night as I dreamed memory. slow cuts the quickslitter that drives home venom angry and opaque. take this phial and drink warm wine tonight when they come for you, as I do. no less breathes a riddle than I. no more to dream the clocks' mockery. copyright William F. DeVault |
Author's Notes: Bragi was the Norse god of poetry and eloquence, and this poem marked a departure from simple romanticism into a metaphysical posture in exploring all aspects of my life. Obscure to me when I first wrote it, I soon came to grasp all the strange images within as elements of my life. |