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.