I am Autumn Wrought

I am autumn wrought

I am autumn wrought
Borne out of evasion,
bound for the crippled hold
where continents rest
their wrecked harbours
and clouds drop their anchors.
I am autumn wrought

I was wrongly sought
By inquisiteurs of dread
Who’d drape mist o’er the dawning
Clawin’ at answers left unsaid, fawning.
Bring bloodshed to the table,
and spoon to mix it, if you’re able.
I tell you,
I was wrongly sought.

I was sorely thought
When other gods phantasie’d naught else
I was conceived in a womb containing
Dreadlocked wires and print’d circuit
A binary stream of watermarks
Issuing from my appendix
So I clawed my way out of my containment
I was sorely thought

Sleep is a kind of death worth going back to.

I keep resurrecting in strange bodies,
Fig leaves trampoline-ed away by the lowest
Flooding of my blood.

That’s all I know.
For I am autumn wrought.