By Moon's Decree

(a pantoum)
Unmask the night that I should see
The aspect of the feckled lands
That ever shifts by moon’s decree,
In open gapes of hope’s expand.

The aspect of the feckled lands,
Awash in fires of horn and veil,
In open gapes of hope’s expand,
That wanton seeks its dark assail.

Awash in fires of horn and veil,
In dance betrayed with sacred blood,
That wanton seeks its dark assail,
Communion borne of milk and rudd’.

In dance betrayed with sacred blood,
To find the sate of sanguine thirst,
Communion borne of milk and rudd’,
The lingered state, devoured first.

To find the sate of sanguine thirst,
Unmask the night that I should see
The lingered state devoured first
That ever shifts by moon’s decree.