hel,
whose name means a veil,
a hush,
a hidden;
whose voice is rough like
chrysalis
or sunlight, but splintered:
a lightning-pale crack in the way she
tongues her words,
has legs all the violent shades of corpse.
has a helmet made of thought fragments
swallowing each other in their vicious
infancy,
the fittest survivors becoming bloated,
vile, screeching things.
i never knew that nail-beds are such a
pretty shade of
blue?
