pax deorum

μηδ᾽ Ολυμπίας αγῶνα φέρτερον


we crossed the hinterlands
of light with the praise
of the games
                        yet sometimes
the heart doubles as the flesh
bashful saints die just to prove
you wrong, and who's to say
who did it?
                   the road is green
ice your blood is spread across
I do not count each stone I
do not count the blessings this
stranger has brought to the world