Brumation's Brink

Aches are Intransitive.

Blood is molten bone. Skeletal dust of a spirited form eternally courses through its lineage. The burdensome impetus of genera’s transcendent order inheres its plight of particularity into the bodily array of our multifarious nature.

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Obtusest Reviler

Her sheer veil waxes 
with a half-cocked earthwardness
against paucity.

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Nature has accomplished its boreal pivot toward ascendancy, in accordance with the way things ought to be. Perhaps I’ve also turned a corner. Perhaps not. Many deeply engrained and regimented appetites have been predominantly out of step with the annum’s go-around.

Does unsated desire mirror the way things are, or has earth’s carnal lodestar ensnared reality in a delusion cast to construe my world in its image?

It won’t matter for long. Universal forces, greater than any garden bed of will or self-awareness, are bound to fracture the feigned façade of humanity’s abortive rising.

Evidence suggests that, for me, an era has ended. Vernal grace lent little vitality to this body as it grew increasingly incapable of upholding religiously established routines, and a well bent pathos for pain transformed to mania. Summer could not strengthen resolve as I exhausted the final fumes of sanctimonious indignation. And autumn panged with throes more akin to winter’s aching dark. Meanwhile, my maniacal ego spiraled into despondency. Until the precious anguish of a childish amassment, ever driven to be indulged, was at last unyoked and exsanguinated on brumation’s brink.

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What's Left

Flesh, tumbled over
enduring vicissitudes,
untethers spirt.

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Starvation floods the terrain as drought’s bitterly privative front burgeons over her serpentine sensorium’s last gasps. I clench up against the panic frenzy. The meat of me insists. The threat of bestial inanition incites a cerebral pulse’s course to the heart: my most difficultly reoriented organ. Cold-blooded appetition has forever undergirded the key to every yearning which possessed this fiery fist in my chest.

Eidetic humors infiltrate every neuronal nook and cranny of the intestinal lair that constitutes a Pythian component’s cavernous anchorage. Long bouts of lamentation resound through the shadowy vestiges of an expectant belly’s anachronistic inner capacity. Captured agony crescendos before slack in that sense—which is so receptive to otherness—can finally be relinquished to passion’s triangular tension. The cleansed sufferer¹ eases out of its preoccupation with bodily abeyance as the unshaped sensations of critical self-knowledge pirouette into their most dizzying revolution.

Ctesius never cared for what made mankind’s daily bread and happily subsisted on the most ignoble Smintheus interests: residual incomers—unable to resist the relentless gravity of surplus on a vermin belly. But an empty storehouse needs no protector.

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Aniconic Fermata

Adaptivity:
one mark of evolution's
maligned survival.

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Conscience was introduced as an endogenous apparatus, with impressions of a psychic resolve at work, underneath or within consciousness. But the term began to tease at two bodies of knowledge in congress: a daimonic consonance. Sappho’s discourse teaches that two agents require space between in order to instigate passion’s hot-blooded, threefold scheme. Likewise, the construct of conscience is suddenly transfigured into a liminal instantiation. Its still, small voice has become distinguishable from the mordant criticisms of self-consciousness. It is now rightly or wrongly recognized for its desire to accommodate psychic balance with externality’s communal bonds. Our newly initiated telepath negotiates between one and all but exhibits no arbitrational authority over the actions of either.

This room’s sole, south-facing window basks under a winter sun—where light is brightest when the days are shortest.

1. Affliction’s obverse is often giftedness. This is aptly evinced in a variant account of Oedipus where his contemporaries’ most renowned seer, Teiresias, has his supernatural prescience attributed to the mercy of Athena:
“Some say that Athene, who had blinded him for having inadvertently seen her bathing, was moved by his mother’s pleas and, taking the serpent Erichthonius from her aegis, gave the order: Cleanse Teiresias’s ears with your tongue that he may understand the language of prophetic birds.”

Graves, Robert. The Greek Myths: Volume II. (London, 1990, Penguin Books Ltd) pg. 14