golgotha

<p><strong>'golgotha'</strong></p> <p>i knew you came to slay me. my tarot spoke such. across my altar i fanned your volatile air but my guides would not yet snuff our death. there, across our timeline, i finally recognized my flogging, the crown of dissolution upon my brow. stripped of all sincerity i once bestowed you, we marched parade to illusive golgotha. you hung me there between your present and past chimeras, denied me grief wetting wine. broke not legs but my chest. callous to nails, i endured only the betrayment of the reed. your final spear of silence did not matter then. already had i awoken. risen with blood eyes. and now you gaze sideways not to notice but i am there.</p> <p>when your lids blink in seismic misconjecture.</p> <p><br></p> <p>#barflypoet</p> <p>#josephapinto</p> <p>www.josephpinto.com</p> <p>© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.</p> <p>*</p> <p>'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.</p> --- Support this podcast: <a href="https://anchor.fm/joseph-pinto3/support" rel="payment">https://anchor.fm/joseph-pinto3/support</a>