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