“once I was …”
once I was a snail climbing a glass
up to the dewy edge of the morning
emerging in solitude from a chamber of echoes
wave after wave of colors
flashes and cavernous thunders.
I knew nothing but the spirals of my thoughts
I discerned but the geometry of my tissues
living on the border line of my own being
eating nothing but my grain of truth. Gods?
I had none. No ruler. No lecturer.
Mother to no one, I dragged myself
beyond signification all the way up making
my way to an indigo sphere. Once
I was embroidered by an invisible shine
and all the world was there, in the slow dropping
of those crystal tears.
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