Roz Kaveney (rozk) wrote,
Roz Kaveney
rozk

Happy birthday greygirlbeast

Leviathan

There are black smoking vents, where all that breathes
would die. Yet things breathe there and call it home
who perish elsewhere. There's a massive dome
lost in those depths. A tendril slowly wreathes

its way up, round a pillar, up again
onto the architrave. It seeks the sky
it senses far above, yet it would die
burst like a bubble. We would go insane

if we should see it. Yet we know it's there-
it haunts our dreams, it nourishes our art.
Has power over us, because apart.
A presence we depend on like the air.

And you, dear Beast, if we could see you clear
would madden, yet we praise for being here.
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