At the Well

Words bubble up from the Well

A gurgle at first

Whispering words of promise

Like quills on a porcupine’s back

Curving into spines

Wisdom well-guarded

Gift for gift not asked

Demanded

Another sacrifice for wisdom

Power

Eagerly ripping the orb’d flesh

The splash, water gulping it down

The pallid flesh moves

Its mortified flesh

Filling the whole

Surer than a surgeon

Like a cup running over

With the Water of Wisdom