Galatea

«Ἔχων χαρίζου»

「鸦片恶魔」

☿

in a dream, i overheard

a mynah speak these words to a greying crow

it said:

eternal innocent, shackled to me,

two of one and both of love

you're not who you think you are

in my stay with the saint of saints

i heard the great ram sing

in a voice that haunts me still:

one swing, two, three,

sugary whiskey sticks to my lips

ashes on the rim of the glass

what am i doing tonight?

who drinks whiskey with sugar? she continued:

one swing, twelve, nineteen,

there's dried blood on the hammer

hair strands in the bin and my lip is bleeding

what happened last night?

the familiarity of these words cut like glass. she carried on:

sticky blood tastes like liquid gold

my hands sting when i wash them

my nails are painted but i can see the stains

what's wrong with my eyes?

i was reminded of bel and her eyes that bled behind her glasses.

if i died with you, then why am i still here?

i don't remember any of you

spring flowers strangle me like a necklace of moths

the flame suffocates in a flurry of fragile wings

bloody hands holding hearts surround me, begging me to eat up!

what kind of person am i if i succumb?

the more this goes on, the more i lose myself

my lifeline became a noose the second i smelled the mint

the ghost of samhain killed my angel and i'm left in the dust

grasping for memories, but the powder falls through my fingers

your obsession with august turned into reality

look at us, we lost everything

four minutes, then a few hours

none of it matters to me

righteous anger from an unfamiliar cause filled my eyes with tears

easter ate my heart but it was worthless anyway

i turned to leave but the greying crow returned