Natal Perfume

Facing the slightest claw is
the birthing of light
the salve of a tearing

Fool, I am fragrance

way beyond the trinity


Bottled quick, escaped
in crevice whispers

Pushed up and carried

through veins of blackness


Beauty as core
blushes from garnet blade
on the first step of home

Singing the quietest note is
the birthing of light
the lion’s redemption