restoring death to its abode

the throes of pale descend;     a bone is wrought   this the wire where blood is vine   as fern-door tips     open, the solitary dove coos   whose wish remains, which house of worm witholds?     as the cove of ground breaks open love buds   whose wish remains, which     whorl of tincture roams? restoring death to its

abode   i as the stubbornness of manhell climb out of nothing into nothing   serpent! sway us into call, strum the wet wood into storm   smoke   mother!