Like a snake shedding its skin;
fear blooms with smell—
Butterflies buckle turquoise in the swamp;
water swallows a generation;
I plunge into a jungle of prehistoria
Mud, sweat and tears
carry a boat to a secret cave,
His cries stream from a mountainhome,
flags mark where the victors rewrote our books.
As earth crusts collide to birth
Caverns of sapphire and philosophers’ stone.