I Hold Four Hydras II

I am aridity, I am the cracked and the dry
Have you no moisture?
Found you no well?
Hers is the water and the life and the glory

I scratch the seared earth until I
Have ten bloody fingertips
Found are the wet sands
Her power, the moon, hid before dawn

I, amid red sands fine
Have, feet worn grey and splayed
Found, upon the blasted heath
Her. And know no road to the city or the temple

I ache and sting and
Have
Found no dwelling place beyond my crystalline spheres
Her sight etched there ‘til all goes to dirt

I hold four hydras
Dead and limp
Reeking of all necrotic things


Special thanks to St. Matthew, Chiori Miyagawa, Mark Moffett, and, once again, Seattle University Housing And Residence Life