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."