Black Marquee, Living Womb

 

That which came before and that which travels after

constitutes the multi-verse within. Implosions of matter

and explosion of rock fuel the seed that drifts tumultuous canals –

quasar and pulsar shake the inner core; a violent awakening

neither tangible or comprehendible. The stiff thrust of

frozen language dredges the heart. Parallel, the dreams

you see, or, nightly occupations – drain and temper. Taunt, even.  

Man flagellates with the darkest questions; while gilded solutions

swirl in the palm of his hand. The cartography of lines

which carve the flesh show; all the palms of the earth –

join them to form maps of unknown perimeter.

See the trajectory on a flake of skin,

simple. Meditate the

catapult – we, inside the complex circus –

its black marquee, the living womb, caresses all life that ever

was and all that it will be.

 

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