Thursday, April 2, 2009

priestess, oracle

in darkness, tempered by translucent eyelids of light, greeted by the sky gods, the child chooses a new name: all of you. the feast is for the child, for all of you. the child greets the sky in a multitude of names, begins unpacking;--a system from a suitcase. the child makes an utterance, the first pronoun. is it i or is it you?

meanwhile,

the tortoise, a hundred years old, pregnant, giant, sleeps under a shell made of fragments;--the dismantled center of the world.

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