Pulling red beets from black soil
Aggregate minerals tumbling down
On my knees in the sanctuary
Patella bones cradled by earth
Fertilized to crimson
To blood-red and black
Sweet-hearts-shaped and beating
With the sky a shade of dusk
To pull them right
Balsamic moon holding
In the open of my hands
Juice-trickle so like blood
Sacrificial bulbous
Root to spinous process
Bending every fiber
Of these aching limbs too real
Gloam Gnosis 