before I turn it into glass;
I will,
I know I will:
touch it,
just for an instant.
And the sky shall be—
it shall be traitorous blue—
witness of the blood,
wounds on my fingertips;
then it’ll cry sky-red clouds.
Earth that wiped out my soul:
it is a destiny,
is!
a promise I shall inscribe,
all my hell versed over it.
And when I’ve culminated it,
I will shatter its horizon.
And verse-crystal-blood
will rain upon you.
And it shall pour,
it shall pour blood,
and pour verse,
and shall pour crystal
on both of us.