in a garden, golden volt and verdant, my grasp deliquescent, mine is the kingdom of none. in a vale, stolid before a river of frozen earth, my steps ataxic, my limbs a rotted pace. in a desert, a silken dancer, tendrils of feathered flight, a blinding light beyond the sun, seems to know me, seems to call me in fragrant lashes. out beyond this world, all my friends in hell, cry victorious in flame, at the flogging of an angel, before the makers rusted throne. there is no exact worth exacting, only a love worth expanding, to the swallowed bodies of reaching hands i offer a lachrymose weight, i offer a broken sword. in a storm of tears, there is no gain worth gaining, there is only a crying collision of rushing promises, broken with a potency so human, my brothers and sisters, there is enough, no ocean separates a love undying, and at the mouth of an evil so eloquent, we dance in graceful silence.