I. AUTOSAVE

(All my pain is old. People will pick at the loose holes for as long as there is a Sun. “The sun rises, and the sun goes down”—I think God said something like that—“but the earth remains forever.”)

II. GOLD

[He] carries crows over the mountains, over the ruins,
and you run until you lose it; like white lies, like lightning.
Dripping,
dripping

III. BLOOD

You see it when you close your
eyes. Fistfuls of rubies. Drowned
in the River. Your hair
turns red in sunset. It’s a cloud in Caelid with streaks
of salt. It’s smeared in your hair. Looking down your
Deathbed Dress, radiating love to [that thing]
in the oven. Hair accepting
the hawk wings, and then the leaves, and the fried Deathbird
with no eyes,
putting you
in
its
mouth.

IV. DRAGONKIN

But, hey, Kassandra, I believe he is
hurting. Touched by the black flame
in your hair. You hack at pieces of the
swamp when—can’t you see?—there is no beast
to patch the hole.

I don’t mind speaking out of turn
as a flower. The lesson is in how I’m glowing,
with the Silver Tear ashes.

V. AUTOSAVE

(I played about 50 hours of Elden Ring on my ex-boyfriend’s PS5, but it’s not mine—that time is no longer mine.)

VI. MALENIA

You know (better than anyone) that Rings
require a patient finger. Don’t bother playing
with thorns.

VII. AUTOSAVE

(I’ll save up for a Steam Deck.)

VIII. TARNISHED

You know why
the stars breathe here because
you’ve been suffocated
with silver ice, too.

I’ve been watching you

from the waterfall. Bathtime Bathsheba,
(“After the time of mourning was over, David had her brought to his house…”),
but stories don’t end that way
at home. The flowers kill themselves to kiss
your feet, and the Eternal City
is a pomegranite. Still, you draw your blade.

What do you need that for?

What do you need that for?

IX. AUTOSAVE

(Hey, I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but I’m starting to think of all the places I haven’t been.)

X. ASH

Ashley, I met you when the grass was green, and you still killed me with the other goats.

XI. MELINA

You are not a gargoyle.
You are not even a

Nascent Butterfly (tempus nascendi, et tempus moriendi)
on the scent of bluebells
(tempus plantandi, et tempus evellendi quod plantatum est),
you are moving pieces of this world like
sugar in a vein. I see you pushing your luck
forward, closer and closer to
the truth.

XII. WE LOOK UP AT THE ERDTREE

[She] wasn’t happy until you
started a fire and let the
gold turn brown. This is the natural way,
it’s the animals and the
branches. It’s moldy tongues and
handshakes, and you’re always back here,
doing it.

It’s in the dungeons and the lakes. The forests and
the other forests, with the other
[girls] who slipped on their
cloaks walking home from the
battlement.

You in your new dress,
wildly swinging your greatsword—I notice you
like God does; I blink until you walk away.