Proscribed Blood — 1

In the sanctum’s dark stands
Our half-female Goddess,
Waiting on her one aching foot
Inside her stone prison,
Bolted shut and baking
In April’s stifling heat

With his lone right eye, Sivan
Glares askance at Shakti
As she wriggles in discomfort,
Caused by the sticky trickle of ooze
In her vagina from her bursting eggs

As the blood scent spreads, causing
One half of the snake to slither down,
Bearing the other half in its memory,
She grabs and pulls the snake
Towards her to wipe the blood
Before flinging it away

Feeling extremely worn today
From the more copious than
Normal discharge of blood,
She asks Sivan to move away
To offer some relief to her body
The one who is one half
Of her feels upset:
How can I survive with this half-body
For three whole days?
Our contract must not be breached, he says

Without you, I don’t exist,
He declares, as he folds her
In a tight embrace with his right hand
I need to sit with legs stretched out
I must sleep with my own body
She rips and throws Sivan away
With her left hand, and sits down
Once again in the vacant space
Of her age-old throne

All along the pathway around
The temple’s perimeter are found
The bloodied tracks of a lone foot

PROSCRIBED BLOOD — 1