from The Reading
Tarquam

His heaving blue shoulders face away
from the rust moon
singing Father of Water
naked on the dead soil
pierces ground by centimeters
with the specter of the dove
crowned in the masculine principal
foretold in jagged mountain
hidden beyond thundercloud
the masque of creativity
closing her eyes
in the afterburn of
quicksilver rainbow
dead Iris lurks
she feels the livid sun
thrown by the shade of the palm
digs her feet into the putrid soil
envisions the Earth finally
visible from its axis
reflected in the tranquil seed sounds

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