I close my eyes,
and Osiris’s ladder descends
from heavens
torn by unseen hands.
Stars shake loose
fill my eyes
with the red cries of the
dying
that fled to them
as they bled,
found solace
in radiant
forever.
Oh, clever Set
how you lied
when you said
the dead
would be judged
by a sharp toothed dragon.
When I look into the eyes
of this death god,
He is love incarnate.
Resurrection.
His gaze holds thick secrets
that cannot be spoken
by mortal tongues.
Light more blinding than sun.
A spiral stretching on and on and on
into the dark matter of
eternity.
There is no fear here,
only the silent solace of knowing
I am finally
going
home.
Burlesque Press 