THE WEAVE:

Mars writes a Love
poem, and thinks about Medusa.
Chiron sits outside his window
and eavesdrops on his recitations…
What do I know about the Way Time passes? I know I can feel Autumn in my Heart, like an egg, cracking Open for the Beloved again. If I could I would share all of this Gold within, and fall like a yolk into your mouth. And so I eat my own Love, as I break it free of itself. And it is enough.