a serpent creator god spirals down the pyramid
the cosmos sings like a seashell cries for the ocean
notes follow notes
one who writes with pictures the word for artist scribe
books which accordion from past to future
pictures follow pictures
the basic premise is humility before the immensity of nature
measurement fused to motion in the circle within a square
the sun tells us death will come at the endpoint of life
the moon teaches to celebrate life while we are yet alive
silenced and savaged memories
haunt me with images of another woman
I resemble her there in the mirror
I’m not sure who she is
the cactus spine pierced tongue is mine
the plum clouds and blue flowers on her flesh are mine
my roots are severed
a shallow network at best
broken into clumps of the dead and near dead
the old are raucous and sorrowful together
I am wrapped in a cloak of sky both foreign and familiar
desert nights can be lonely
best prepare for the cold
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