Deity is in the details & we are details among other details & we long to be
Teased out of ourselves. And become all of them.
—Larry Levis, “Elegy with a Bridle in Its Hand”
When I am able, I sink slowly.
Shadowed in warm marigold sun,
I shed my skin and all its identities:
scripts, claws, bruises.
I felt nothing sinister, just adrenaline
from knowing I was doing something wrong.
An ambivalent refrain—courageous as an eclipse—
pure movement vanishing into exhalation.
Cache Culture 