Alchemical

Silence, like Gold cooked in charred Hands. Vast, grey, near as all that is Lost Sisterly-Shape: All the Names, all the with- Burnt up Names. So much Ash to be blessed. So much Land gained above the light, so light Soul- Rings. Vast. Grey. Clinker- less. You, then. You with the pale bitten-out bud, You in the Wine-Flood. (Did it not discharge us too, this Hour? Good, Good, that your Word died away here.) Silence, like Gold cooked, in charred, charred Hands. Fingers, smoke-thin. Like Crowns, Air-Crowns around – – Vast. Grey. Track- less. Queen- like.