A blood-clod
Within the Red Sea
Where the vermillion ruler
Dealt Russian roulette to jets
Of rusted mouths,
Agape mines wore
In the green-lurching
Of tremors, amidst devilish
Axes that betrayed their
Pine-mothers with tendril whiskers
And resin coagulating
Into shadowy honey, amber diadem
For the nuptial ant-queen
Odes: To Blood
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