a river Athame
bathed cleansed
gathered in a sheepskin
bladder the wound
Through the tunic
and shirts
a grievous impression
between coastae spuriae
it had been a parting
extended reach
like a lance of lightning
parting air in its flicker
of silver
the breath of a serpent

roses turpentine and egg
white from a linen boiled
upon a small willow fire
in seclusion staunched
the flow seeping down
It glimmered in its sheen
an ugly hue
a marauders brand
Beneath stars on blankets
kept watch while fever
roved on the green
of eyes
Pallor of marble deities
polished drawn cheekbone
small breathes

Sea of Stars shone
spinning the fate of
Gods
staring into the lively
fire while grey foxes
swam in the fiends
speaking
the sleeping spoke
from the land of
travel
prayed with talismans
the face framed in
flowing hair
peaceful tranquil
as rapture

First hint of dawn
the watch awoke
and spoke with
welcome news
sleep had come
her fever settled

we stationed with
good weather for
two moons
till she was strong
enough to move
her to a village
and midwife to
repair the infliction

on the way she
recited her vision
arriving past midnight
like a rider

...