Behold, mutilation in marble.
The Taj Mahal's material, emblematic of Eros's purity, disembodied for prophecy's perversion of storge.
Woven moonlight veils his carmine calderas, the twin wounds witnesses to his transgressions.
Ruby tears run from them, like he ran toward his degradation in his attempt to avoid it. They trail the anguished angle of his jaw, lingering in his throat's left tendon, where Cupid notched his cursed arrow.
He has no body; for he has banished his head from it, but will he ever be able to banish himself from what he did in trying not to do it?
About the Creator
Wen Xiaosheng
I'm a mad scientist - I mean, film critic and aspiring author who enjoys experimenting with multiple genres. If a vial of villains, a pinch of psychology, and a sprinkle of social commentary sound like your cup of tea, give me a shot.
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s.o.c 10
There's this toy I kind of just fiddled around with as a kid because I couldn't figure out how to play with it for a while. A wooden rainbow bound in ribbons. It looked to me like a lizard, like the lizard from Proverbs 30:28 that you can hold in your hands, yet it is in the king's palace. It's beautiful. It's really beautiful. And it would drape over my palms, and I'd trace its ridges, and I could bet my life that it breathed, and the heat of its happiness chewed through my calcified vocal cords.
By Wen Xiaoshengabout a year ago in Poets
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Hermann Nitsch, 1990