This liquid is bone white and void heavy
I let these jackal eyes pour their potion,
As the shadow filled, marrow-river flows into my lungs.
They speak to me,
Breathe this fume of flood elixir deep
And slip into psychotropic sleep.
Claws crafted with intent
To strip my life-hide of
The ash-bones you made
The moon cycles and sun melts
But your jackal eyes still cast their spells
Of false whispers from bleeding trees
Reminding me, I cannot see