Split

Cranberry pops

on eager lips

beneath a sun

beaten canopy

Rushing leaves

softly hum

a mournful carol

for a present misgiven

But then, in the

cool rush of night

A star hints

at the wrong path

lights twinkle

sinfully, deceptively

The birth of knowledge,

hard-earned

Canes of sugar

crack and rot

sickly sweetness

pungent in the dark

Virgin once wrapped

in tinsel and light,

transmuted non-believer-

birthed within the

fickleness of devotion