Look at what he looks like, finds
In looking
                                                                     refracts,
The pure image broken.
The self, at a depth past depth for seeing,
                                                                                           clearly
At the further distance appears
An amnios, a cosmos of
                                                        darker matter:
Velleity as veil, as trans-parental.
To be, as being
                                 concealed.
In the cloaked infernals, heated alembics
Of gravity’s curves and planals:
Coronals, cauls, cowls,
                                                     cradles,
Who, or what ever’s groping and blind
Is climbing up the salt ladders
Through the god miscibles,
To the star archipelagoes of the night’s uncharted.
In this ontology of the heart
Fault grinds.
Cross purposes,
                                              desire,
Embedded within fate,
                                                       shears
As will flesh
The bones with a face.
Fret-work tectonics beneath its surfaces: all
Or nothing masked
                                              looks
But the more deeply           fractured.
Mirrors the branch and leaf of an imperfect symmetry.
Unseen roots, a perfect likeness,
Divide and sub-divide in the dark’s least reaches.
Alchemical transports’closed and glow-eyed divinants.
Mycelial synaptics, illuminate ganglia,
Increscent dendron’s mycorrhizals massed.
Excrescent swamp-rot sub-limen-arials.
Bog lanterns. Slime candles. Thought truffles.
Sulfur’s Sun-dewed symbionts.
Lamped, primordial ghosts that haunt
The mind’s castellating fractals.
Hel-apples plucked from vision’s boreal fires.
Who is it brothers me
                                                 here?
Mothers, fathers me
                                                 here?
In kind simulacrum faces me?
What sibilants tide through phloem and xylem?
What igniant, algaeic blooms?
What lunar pulses? Systole? Diastole?
Leaps and neaps of phospher: spoors:
Spores: pains: pleasures.
                                                           Whose
Chimerous parts are genital,
Wave and particle.
Brow, eyes, hair,
                                     lips
Pursed as if to speak? Cannot
Speak, but prisms at a backward glance
Out of in-coherent light a rainbow
                                                                           nothingness?
Light! True life! You are my own,
Whose dark in turning turns
                                                                 away
With me
                            alone.