let wild under
the ridge of the spine-
rising up in you
like a leap
from the crest of the mountain.

each turn, veiled
- a net of trees
tying away doors
to every side

you, alone, walking straight
turn, and feel
the reflection touch
at the edges

a curtain falls
leaving the forest on the outside
inside, the path
is alone, breathing.

freya

o amber trace of evening,
falcon-feathered, trailing night
tumbling in breathless,
steel-tipped wind-
each house a separate print
of the cat’s paw to earth.
behind you, one-eyed Death
is, by the fireside, blind.

juno

the throne is empty
cascading against it,
fine thread of dawn, noon, evening,
resplendent spread feathers.
the throne is dry and empty
as a bone, barren, bewildered queen,
despite the worst: a ruler
waiting to transcend the rule.

hecate

i bring you, bring you
down between the spread legs
of the road, the open cleft
of the earth.

to the right and left are torches
in the centre, in the darkness
past me -
burning brightly, oblivion.

trail behind you streets, dust
wallowing in an old, orange sun
staggering around the edge of the door
pushing aside the curtain; drunk,
falls out of the sky
with a sudden, sharp push
midnight shoulders in the way.
travel lies discarded
around the feet of the moon
even the street is quiet
while the living houses, some of them,
gasp softly, unwilling
to wake morning.

o open sky
you promise, gift of your presence,
a deep ocean
where light can’t stretch.

by existing, you prove
you cannot go everywhere-
standing still, you reflect even
deepest water.

with both hands, unwrap
slick roads, soaked trees
in the underwater of the storm
- you and I hold safely
hiding in that one midnight

dawn makes
no promises
of further nights;
love, let
us not waste
any path into
dusk

tickle the veins and the skin
with the needles; let
the blood flow through the heart,
through the twined limbs,
let it pour from the lovers,
let it fall from their fierce meeting
bordering a night with no ending.