Obsidian Satyrs Poem by Diana Thoresen

Obsidian Satyrs



my obsidian
satyrs -
how many fur-baby
blessings
does every black
river whisper?

the russet
darkness inside
every etherized
flower is
a sea of crimson
cat-like music

beleth, beleth, beleth
your pale
horse illumines
a forest
of gorgon wounds
and all rites of spring

Obsidian Satyrs
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