At the end of the night,
finally comes the mineral moment
of unwanting;
                  a free fall,
to test the lustrous thread
and taste infinity,
by traveling through
                  crisp, frozen layers of loss.

There, I see the      cracks
multiple reflections  (truths)
in need of reconstruction
- a unifying breath.

My hand then puts together
opalescent feathers
like cards laid on the dinner table
in a place almost defined
between bread crumbs and dripping candles.

So the mandala of peace appears
when Isis opens the chest
                 to suddenly free my heart
where revelations are written,
reflected in my irises at dawn.

At dawn, naturally emptied,
instead of wanting
(and wanting, and wanting),
mirrors in mirrors,
                blades against blades;
once separated signs
now form new shapes:
drops of garnet blood
form crosses and crystals.

In a moment,
all the sacred pieces
(of me) are assembled to form
a whole.

   Emptied again,
             yet embodied:
                    a cup, a circle, so full.