Georgia
Hilton

                but bronze, we take third place

                to Earth and Sky

                                                                            and every nature deity.

                A hollow sound, an empty space,

                nothing springs from an embrace

                                                                 that cannot be, as we are sidelong

                welded for eternity.

                The birds look on, confused

                by faces that collapse

                                                                        upon themselves in waves,

                royal inscrutability.

                Perceived, but not perceiving.

                Sovereign of themselves, unto themselves.

                                                                                Unto themselves.

                Her arms hold nothing

                but her own radius.

                                                             His hand touches nothing but his own

                base Throne,

                thrown upon the moors

                exposed to elements,

                                                                          themselves Elements –

                molten blood of the Earth’s

                core, and nothing more.