She keeps them in a jeweled box.
It turns itself inside out. She flies
into an infinite sky. A flaming bird
breaks the glass, its broken body lies,
martyred, on the gravel ground.She walks with me on distant beaches.
I am lost in the phantasmagorical sea.
The shaman cuts the cord, the gypsy
grants me a future of fog. I loiter
amidst the whitened ribs of whales.She dreams me a séance of strangers.
We seek the hearts of the dead, the once
blood-red, sanguine hearts of the now
bloodless dead. Each dream has its own
clarity, its own acuity, its own lucidity.She brings me many-colored cats, and ponies.
Appaloosas and thick-furred island wildness.
The sagebrush mound slumps down to the sea,
the many-peopled, many-creatured sea. She
shows me, I am drowned, and I see.
read write prompt #82: ode to your homunculus and read write prompt #83
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