so drink of it deep.
That nectar of porphyry chrysalis
Shed for the love of the air.
Struck from your forewing pair; glorious twins
Birthed of Leto and swansong,
Awaiting
Eos to evaporate
Crepen dream flotsam. The boon Epimetheus gave
The Dioskouri —
One lost to Lethe’s lead currents—
Passed through the shade veil, but whispering memories.
Draw out the secrets your forbearers keep for you!
Then will your filigreed wings be put down
for absinthal truth;
The echo of Capricorn’s suckling.
Shaking the wings that you wrought,
Shuddering the doublet-soul, one part interred
In its world age of jasper,
Antico,
Blue lapis and serpentine,
Set with conviction by fingertips tracing the lichens
On damp, leeching walls—
A centerless labyrinth—
Plumbing and teasing ‘till wisps of truth’s sublimate
Bear forth the niches for delicate inlaying.
Shards in a door its perfection might open
again to the pair.
Eternal their ignorant swirling;
Ever bound never to see,
Ever foundlings of she-wolves; spinners of silk
For their chrysalis proofing.
So turn, world!
For there is one creature
Waiting with patience and skittering over the ruins
Transcending mythos—
The lizard, immortal —
Listening for footsteps that portend his nemesis.
Awaiting Apollo Sauroctonos:
Knowing their battle remakes the life, and
Sauroktonos