Cleansing Dirt

The ashes of Yonder’s calling
Fly about like dragons of the moon
Desperate winds carry them
To the darkness of a far-off canopy.

We sit and watch them shuffle
The tear and burn our eyes
And potent cries provoke me
To penetrate their bubbles
With my tingling fingers.

A Howling phlem of Karma
Filthies me with destiny
And I am absolved of my desire
To run naked and dirty through the barren fire.
So I drag my flesh
Through the remains of a bonfire
And frollick in the aftermath
Of a mesmerizing stare.

How grand to be naturally unclean
To be moldy like the milk of waste
In my nudity I rolled about the soil
And basked in the uncertainty of the foreign.