Gold circle http://ow.ly/18LizP

Oh osiris we tore apart a christ too. We needed the glimmer of meat. I’m smoking beneath his stars, with full belly, rivulet chin

Sometimes i talk to the empty creek. Isis or Lindsay topping the rusted tractor. Lose my way my mind, spying paths through brush

Drunk Osiris, i follow the heft of where your hills roll, training the vine to quiet hulls of logic. Lindsay, stung allergic

Abandoned campsite etched into thresh forest floor. Oh Isis. My pine-cone wand, my veins of sloughed limbs. Branches rot to burst