Arms swing blindly while the carpet folds
necessity draws blanks in the open wounds
before they were called the mothers of silk
woven into the beams of light
merciful texture
Naked throne room and cautious they spent
shut in, shut, shut in, shut
Narrow like the birth canal of tomorrow
wearing shadow above understanding
the back of her skull draws pictures
cave paintings to worship on
the cave talks back
Arms reach wildly melt into fluorescence
voices peer in through the hallway
where we might speak the foreign language
of understanding
