No further offerings of our own flesh and bone, the stranger found in pieces on
shore, has limbs to spare, and can grow more
A sign, an omen, a living totem, a walking fountain of meat
Asteroidian limbs grow again and again, pleasing the pool of teeth
Sacrifice anew of fresh sinew, his scent sinking like teeth in soup
Sentries arise from the halocline
Water will flow from elder to embryo, the driest of days are days of old
Bring every bowl, fetch every pail, cup thy hands both dry and frail
We’ll all be drunk with water again
When we’ve regaled the demons enough, bring our gift back up
And feed him well with the oiliest slop
Yank the rope and hoist him high, he’ll regenerate overnight
When fins follow, let him drop