‘the untitled chronicles ~ no. 138’

broken glass shard, thickly…
hung souls
from the cling-able well.

such tongue-torn knots my dear,
unable still to wield joan’s sword.

eyes asunder, cipher sung,
when roamed feral beasts in tied-light accord.

so smiles on the sawyer,
simply another tooth upon his blade,
my castle cast, forever in the sand.

jonathan j ames