THE WEAVE:
Jupiter calls Lilith,
on his roadtrip, half-way
between Pluto and Neptune.
She doesn’t pick up, but,
he leaves her a breathy voicemail…
"Scattered on the Winter Wind
between Death and the Dreaming
Sea, what do you know
about magick carpets?
I am myself, a ghost
not yet landed. What comes,
what comes, O' crispy Sky,
set crystal and kaleidoscopic?
In my arms, Fire is a torch
made from a magnifying glass
I have folded into the weave.
I cannot lose it.
This is how I carry
Fire through the Flood."