here’s a new and alien labyrinth, a many-furled dimension hidden
in a flower. my gods dwell in it, coiled, like islands sleeping, yet
nowhere coiled! but spread like any sky above a starry ocean
crab-impaled and bleeding stars of love, like any atom, any earth.
i am the serpent’s coils: my twin dooms, birth and death, almost
kiss each other; and they would, most dangerously
if that caduceus were not swaddled up tight as a lily bud, hard
as a totem pole between them, twinning all things both twinned and twinned.
twin-handed, twin-footed, twin-eyed, i hold the staff and shout
till the soundwaves break on my horizon and come wake-weaving back
up along my new-laid beach. this is an ocean i have not made.
my voice has not sung this sailor-spilling ship upon my shore.