Amor Vincit Omnia

Listen! I am wind’s solemn ensemble—
a murmuration in search of one solid
form, I am multitude, tens of tens,
thousands of thousands, our sevens
search skies for one man’s water—
we are spirit, we are echo’s eloquence,
we are apocalypse—open, mouth;
open, soul! My sound spreads as fire
devours! The voice! Hear the darksome
wisdom of the elect, the new lunar
anthem, our magic, our mathematic
is increasing! Open, gateway; open
supernal slit, whore’s maw, wet desert:
your’s is the question—our’s the answer,
the all! Enter absolute, enter mesmer,
matriarch Mary! The wind dithers, we
tarry, then depart and on our wings is the
iridescent oil of sadness, we weep in unison,
our voice receding; the sprinkled blood of
the enemy makes us shrink in horror,
and for now our whispered Latin slurs,
nonsensical: “Amor vincit omnia, amor vincit
omnia, amor vincit—amor, amor, amor!”

Thanks for checking out my poem.

Did I tell you I wrote a novel? You can read it here for free, or get it for your e-reader on iBooks, Amazon or Kobo. Or you can just say you read the book, and donate five bucks down below. Go on.

Gabriel Muoio



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