Morrow [UK] - Cleaved Fang

surround these gross epithets reveal your cutting to their thick necks be livid and live in the vermillion ring watch the life escape with desperation disperse in the clap of resilient hands we sing in the eyes that we’ve painted on we drew into the bark and let ourselves be ruled by the whims of whilom revery (for too long ) skeleton tokens dance radiant the smoke evokes guises of fiendish portent fear seeks the parlour of their lacking wits the naked cowering with which to play tricks their bare eyes know nothing of the brawn of our gods the forests bristle; the hide of each ridge made of the green spine, the dew and the moss amongst marbled lichen is our truss Tyton, vestigial ghoul the horn blade mouth swung their necks I have wrung Only you will know the blood Only you will feel the cut have my hands and make use of them Tesh, In my sleep you make love caress in the dark with mycelium touch hyphae enwrap all the terrible thoughts and offer me up to the light Spoken word (In English from Spanish) "There have always been places we do not go; in the perilous depths where creatures dwell, in the forest where the trees intwine and hinder our path, we understand Tyton's grip, it forbids us for good reason. Yet It speaks to us now in worried voice, through the crack of twig and creak of branch, for it cannot bring the trees together or cut the earth and stop their march, for they walk where we dare not go, they do not know our gods, they do not fear its hollow crowing. So we must become fear." ruth bind, teeth rend incant with hexing exhalation forests bid with exaltation pith of boreal 
fungi thread and bind and knit the incandescent braid machinations of sordid ill our word is better still run! bring them into the thrall! the trees keen to their wounds dissever them amongst the unlit the groves labour in greedy throes to know a fertile feed betwixt each heaving heart display that which they sought in themselves we lock them up in the loam crude clasps of fondling root sunken keeps of mouldering mulch mix the earth up with the blood heed a furrowed brow, recall each beloved rhythmic thread the raw groan of glacial beckons and is glad risen up in floral arms in the yearling growth we are seed within the fruit grasp our honesty the choral winds of absent mouths call with familiar clarion tempt away famished ghosts for other fiendish tasks we seek the white tusk of home it extends its cold comforting the forest divides its verdant path shepherd us old evergreen each breath we merge tides wrap envelop