aelita 1 Tied and Tickled Trio
he came to an ocean, his soul in his hand
alone and turned in, to make his last stand
he stood on a rock and yelled to the wind
i don’t know how to live, i only do what i can
the wind screeched in kind, its protest of will
he threw back his head and heaved dry and shrill
the paean carried off on the crests of the waves
and he dove for the rocks and braced for the chill
falling through mist and the damp of the sea
he opened his arms to sound his decree
to a diving gull plunging down for a kill
this is my will and as i will, it will be
passage was offered, but he chose to swim
sodden with guilt, the sage rushes in
again as before, ventured off filled with fear
glistening wet with the thickness of sin
soaked through with blame self-imposed and contained
a great hole in his hand, his innocence stained
murky clay eyes; fragile, torn paper skin
weary with all his past joys abstained
the surface drew near, both clear and dark
a peace filled his chest and he aimed for his mark
there below waits his truth and his reason
guised as a game, an adventure, a lark
the waters of timeless appeal splashed all around
fruition, delight, and rapture profound
he consumed, voracious infant at breast
chaos ensued but he heard just one sound
calliope’s aria, streaming through hadal and brine
his Nemesis, his antithesis, exoneration divine
inverse, though perverse, extends her pale hand
this fruit, suspended from the tip of an ill-fated line
