|The Matter of Sound
||[Aug. 17th, 2016|10:12 am]
On those days of Ice fire steel and Blood.|
Dig in your heals.
Grit and push as dirt and sand fly and mix with blood.
Those threaded days cut short by teeth and stone.
When the furies come singing our song and we ride with the valkaries to stovokor.
Where the letters cut like knives through souls of men and beast.
The dangers of the words living and their shadowed sense.
Though we sing those multiphonal polyphonal multivoiced tangential arrays into and beyond existence.