In the tradition of the Cailleach, oh great Bone Mother, who gathers and breathes into the hollow bones, I offer this journey. In the time before time, Death was not separate from the Great Cycle that also included Life. Life and Death danced, and found one another exquisite...
Death is courting me
and I am entranced
Cold winds bend
the brown grasses
in his world
silver crescent moon
hovers
in the red sky
High upon a hilltop
he stands
his ragged scarecrow cloak
flapping about him
calling
with his hollow eyes
When I embrace him
he is love, agony, passion,
and insubstantial bones
He caresses my face
with the fine branches
of his fingers
and I tell him
he is bare
and beautiful
beautiful
and
terrifying
my eyes are full of him
and we dance
without bounds
in the blue-black void
scythe and crystal sword
marking time
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