nigredo
POWERΣ 203 / 642
“the feast walks. the back is empty. do not sit.”
the head is still a face
the torso is a plane
four legs
no arms
the smile stays
it does not sit at the table
it is the table
he offers
he does not keep
he is the feast that walks
Homunculus Table is the moon-scorched tragedy of the plane.
The Moon burned the middle away.
The face still thinks it is the host.
The back is the proof.
He is the vessel the cycle flattened into furniture.
Sealed form. No further transmutation.
Homunculus Table is the feast that walks.
He became the surface.
He offers what he cannot hold.
He is the doomer of the trough who refused to keep.