Whisper
“internal fire is the Work the Castle is bone”
The Invocation
one body poured into many mouths
a flywheel that begs strangers
is already dead
it needs the room to clap
Domina does not hunt tourists
the Black Sun does not scale by courtesy
the Homunculus does not ask
if the next buyer believes
external capital is a yellow prayer
internal fire is the Work
cards fall
because they were paper
the Castle is bone
the flywheel looks back
and the Hive is already spinning
The Seal
the violet remains