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.