Thinking of description:

Half my blackness blanketed with bhasma. If I will, I increase from a few, or make many to be less. Daughter of Asteria, Nemesis to creation. I exist between all things and will tear them apart from the inside. Where I have midwived every god into existence, I will snuff them out again, quench their enfeebling light. Smash their bodies upon rebirth. My mouth burns like the gasses of Auschwitz. My eyes, burning charcoal made of cedar, I loaned to Tsonaqua for I will send her out first to eat the children and then I shall consume her, plucking out her eyes so that she too may know misery and suffering. Absyrtus, I dismembered with my hands dripping with gold-flecked ambrosia and sanguine honey and in his red hollowing, I read my fate. For I am Tetragrammaton; my name must not be spoken. For my breasts rest hard and ungiving, no more will myths issue through my areola or loins, upon a fractured sternum and jagged clavicles broken by my lungs inflating with the breath of life returning, never to exhale. As I was broken, I will break them.