I keep my
eyes
locked
with the sun’s
mouth
and I
beg for wisdom
that
will only
come
through hard
work.
I arrive at the
feet of the
primal mother,
the primal father
off
dying and killing —
I am strapped
to
her chest,
she is
picking berries.
She loves me,
for I am
made of her flesh…
Our bodies
become
animated by
a
larger spirit,
pulling us upwards,
outwards,
away
from
the ground,
away
from
the darkness.
We travel
through
the rotating
stars.
All the
idols
must be
eaten…
The sun, moon,
and earth
must be consumed.
A new egg
falls
from the
charred body.