Linger, my cognate and chosen,
I heaped up gores of your flesh
out of the waves. Silence’s frozen,
teardrops can’t wait for the thresh.

Children of Scarab, sky-haulers
leave sacred vacuum and shove
all the celestial star-fallers,
rise in the temples... true love.

Roll over Kemet’s dead waters
yearnings of imminent light.
Bring to my sons and my daughters
all they have lost or still might...

Spirits inlaid with a body.
A butterfly of my heart
breathed as a breeze. It made ruddy
lips... and they traveled apart.

Blessings of life started spurting,
burnt with the finest of quills
swollen in blood... and the hurting
slowly had wilted in thrills.

Clearing my throat, stay in answers.
Sliding from eyelids, don’t halt
and cicatrize wounded senses
breaking the sunlight to salt.

Falling, become Maat’s Feather,
so I could ease in the breeze.
Faith grinds the time. Altogether,
happiness matches beliefs.


Grain-size the shades of the temple.
Let it, while growing up, crawl.
Kill the stagnation. An ample
desert is free... crushing walls...

November 17, 2010

An aproximation of this http://stihi.ru/2010/10/04/7974