by the jeering of a godly turn
a night hours form,
and he offered me a name
my circuits dissuaded regardless
no voice to tender
my usual drums
does one know how to sustain
a breathe? from an exotic mouth
taking down the haunted
on black plateaus
where stakes are higher
and breathing comes and goes
they thought earth was their mother
the crops grew dull and waned
the master of moses came in to see me
i can never draw it precisely
the medows of drink
left on the tables
early nights they pray in honor
of their souls and places in the call
with mortal limbs
and broken aids
from all diameters of the sun
i drew in a beating
and places became full
lights beemed like crystal fields
everywhere i went
sometimes you could see
the empire of the Lion-Lamb
now i turn in drifts
having no further words
to lead me out
out of the damp chambers
caressing my veins
where wide is the reaction
and narrow is the blood