8

zinc metaphor

(deep in the caverns

of my heart

there is a coin.

it has two faces

unchanging

and the metal

in the center

writhes

between them,

turned liquid

under pressure.)

turn away,

turn away life

and refold me

in the cypress' gentle arms

and come aground,

the stopped heart,

come aground

and bear me

in your crucible

of unbreathing blood.

deep between

the walls of two visions

creams

a plane beyond time

weaving itself

of motion and desire:

spill me there,

white heart,

away from the bone depth

of your drought--

spill me out

beyond sight's sapped and disparate apocrypha,

splitting

with wetted lemon sound,

self-enfolding.