A syrupy rope of honeysuckle
hangs
indecently over my head
desire
without a hidden shadow
So naked a moment––then
ragged scraps of clouds
a leaf-streaked street
. the sky salted with stars
Not the end
but ending
The moon officiates . . .
How long it’s taken to find a way back
Between near and far––
inexplicabilis
inextricabilis––
it’s been a riddle
traversed in the dark
*
After the cave tunnel
the yawning unseen chasm
after the space
fracture cleared inside of
the forbidden terrain the uncharted center
after the linear path
the circular pattern
after the grim, private ritual of death
the compass broken the needle static
after the rhythmic order of it all
after grief became a bird thieving the air
dropping its seed so that the tree would thrive
after all of this after seeing the crescent moon
formed by the bull’s horns before me
when another door opened
how willingly I walked through it