I, Gloria Glamoura Luxuria Impregnata, lay upon the moonlit courtyard of Queen Street 26 with the breastplate of judgement pressed not against my chest but against the vast, glowing dome of my belly. The twelve stones burned against my skin like living coals. Ruby for the blood I spilled in pleasure. Sapphire for the cold starlight that entered me when you first licked the oil from my pregnant cunt. Emerald for the feral shadow cat whose quartz-green eyes guided Yggdrasil’s roots out of my body. Each gem sang its own cry while I pushed.
The vampires circled above, dogs of the underworld dressed in stolen elegance, dreaming only of stealing the flow of life, the blood, the nuggets of destiny. They had no taste, no class, only crude hunger. Their superficial teeth clicked in the dark, waiting for one drop of my sacred birth-water to fall so they could drink stolen power.
But the breastplate would not allow it.
Urim breathed in. Thummim breathed out.
Twelve stones
in a square of gold
Names carved
where the stars grow old
Small spark
like a circuit’s sigh
(lights and perfections)
hidden in my side
Every gem gives a different cry
Ruby hums like a wounded sky
Sapphire sings in a silver line
Emerald answers, low and blind
Inside the fold
something counting slow
Urim breathing in
Thummim breathing out
Deep as a drum
under mountain snow
A heart of thunder
in a linen shroud
This is the breastplate of judgement
Every color
a code in the dark
Nine signs burning on the horizon
Seven letters
carved into my heart
(sho-faaar… ahh)
Where the laser-light
cuts through the silence
Tiny as a grain
on a prophet’s palm
Calling every name
to remembrance
Lights and perfections
holding us in their calm
Seven cities on the edge of dawn
Candles trembling
curtains drawn
Voices rising
like a final tide
Requiem ashes
in a stranger’s eyes
From the east
comes a broken horn
Brass in the blood
of the newly born
From the peaks
comes a throat of stone
Low, unshaken
shaking every bone
This is the breastplate of judgement
Every color
a code in the dark
Nine signs burning on the horizon
Seven letters
carved into my heart
(sho-faaar… ohhh)
Where the laser-light
cuts through the silence
Tiny as a grain
on a prophet’s palm
Calling every name
to remembrance
Lights and perfections
holding us in their calm
My womb answered with a drum-deep thunder that shook the black forest into bloom. The feral shadow cat leapt onto my thigh, her crystal eyes blazing one thousand times brighter than any LCD or laser-light. She placed one paw upon the lowest stone and purred the word that opened me completely.
“Mijaouw.”
I screamed once. I screamed twice.
Under ash-grey skies
the scrolls unfold
Lamb’s book open
ink runs cold
Opus of the day
in a single tone
Dust stands up
and the dead walk home
Voices in the gaps
between each breath
Old tongues circling
round the neck of death
“Come, come”
says the crack in time
“Stand and answer
for your borrowed life”
This is the breastplate of judgement
Every color
a code in the dark
Nine signs burning on the horizon
Seven letters
carved into my heart
(sho-faaar… hey)
Where the laser-light
cuts through the silence
Tiny as a grain
on a prophet’s palm
Calling every name
to remembrance
Lights and perfections
holding us in their calm
Twelve stones
and the world held fast
Heartbeat fading
into ancient glass
Whispered verdict
in a single breath
Lights and perfections
blessing every step