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Never read, never written

1. Wheel of fortune

The hourglass blood-letter
ruby dust stained linen
soft lively leather of Mediterranean mist
hammered thin as a bat's wing

a head full of pine honey hair
sea in the flesh
weeping sores, innocent folds
lips suture them shut

relentless keeper
of time waning quietly like
a flowing moon on a snow melt stream

so she turns, the wheel of fortune
and there goes the blood
drip, drop
drip, drop.

1. Temperance

Steady stead words mouthed as
surely woven arpeggios
ionic order planted in northern marsh

magnificent lanky neck
so frail in frail hands yet
never giving on the watch
butter made of gold to love and to not

as the boreal knight awakens
the shine of his tears
dawns a distant day in midwinter
estuary eyes

where all the waters even
mortal beauty, timeless poise
now the blood (in these thirsty veins of cold)
now the fiery temperance.


wings spread, the mythical creature of
everything in nothing
only love and death change all things.