I slept in a grey sun
–
as it steeped in moonless dreams,
I walked away
And fell from half formed Amber
to half eyed flesh,
–
an armadillo,
–
tasting the mist of infinity
becoming the place it inhabits
in the sight it sees,
–
a solitaire, a fly
without the spider society
as its seamstress
–
and life was short
the thin span of an ant’s wing,
it could’ve only been a night
in a thought,
–
catching asterisms in the dark
light of mind,
–
waiting
to make mate with wind
–
and raise me
in unwinding air,
–
unfeeling of nothing apart
from everything, asleep to man
and his mindful mania of control,
–
the long old polytheism of words
for the occult world we continue
–
to teach ourselves out of
–
the imageless meaning
of a finger over description,
–
history or your ghost,
–
why are you so afraid
–
to reverse raw anthropomorphism,
and see into the dark nest
of what you are
–
nature