Altamira

From Vanishing acts, Ranjit Hoskoté. Altamira Morning wells like blood in the stag's hollow eye. That horned fleece in yours, prietess; this stone axe, mine. i won't wear my minotaur mask again. I've spent the night carving this ring of bone for you: print your palm in vermilion on this rock-face and today spouts of …