Los Chisos y Chihuahua

Bone dry
clattering pots and pans
the closest star is our own arrogant master
she extracts moisture
tearing deep our sap
our pulsing water
if its dark its hot
if its metal it burns
when she sets we sing
when she rises we die
everything she touches turns to dust
her penchant for destruction is relentless
we scurry in her light, afraid to sizzle
to fry in her tireless war against the damp

endless devious reactions fuel her divine ragings
a great beast trembles
limbs shaking under the fiery waves
a dusty step
and a shuttered gasp
the beast expires
desired by the wicked goddess
to devolve into a pile of frigid white bones
picked clean
a relic of her celestial terror
and the poor beast's short struggle

blighted and wasted, we crawl across terrible scapes
three times the circling vultures call
dead things dangling from their maws
they her bedraggled minions
she the astral empress
how terrible her gaze
how endless her power