There’s a fish in my cup,
a divine stitch in my ribs.
A boiling-over love-lust
I spill in worship—
curative water, vessel,
the elements I need
to burn bright my soul—
body a lens.
© 2025 Flame’s Crucible. All Rights Reserved.
There’s a fish in my cup,
a divine stitch in my ribs.
A boiling-over love-lust
I spill in worship—
curative water, vessel,
the elements I need
to burn bright my soul—
body a lens.
© 2025 Flame’s Crucible. All Rights Reserved.