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Variation 1:  Yhwh

Alice B. Fogel

Explode from the cauldron dark,

that’s what I’d do for them:  That in mind into self

and other I divided.  In and in I overlapped in density

and where I was gravid I breathed their breaths. 

With my body like a brine spiraling I stirred

the silence till it echoed apart from me, and where I

was deafened I hummed their frequencies. 

From a floating ground I fired rounds of clouds

flaming and where they burned I brewed the rutilated

light till it refracted in the wells between comets rocketing.

In and in through the ancient rooms I fell and where

there were thresholds I left them canyons gorgeous

and aggrieved.  Flung wide, electrified, I striated skies

with ellipsis, color, collapse, shot suns past

eclipse, blew the air for sound to sound

from touch, touched them till they cried in ecstacy:

Out and out and through the skin my sweat

ran and poured into hollows so where I emptied

they filled and though I encompassed

they merely contained.  Into the molten cavity I

dropped a stone, I lit the furnace, stretched a hide. 

I wielded the ragged white-veined ice and birthed

spinning galaxies in atoms, vital alluvium, the eternal

quest for me.   I remembered and made them

forget.  I raged and sweetened them.  Formless then

I dimensioned space, delineated them.  I swallowed

my own throat to feed them hungers delicious.

Where I could not pass I corridored their heavens.

Where I felt nothing I caused them passion and urge.

I watch them and they are blind to me.

I sleep, and they dream. 

I cry out to them, and they die.

Alice B. Fogel

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