orphic flute song II
I take out my flute.
I sway in ribbons of the earth’s rotation.
You are my axis.
It’s when I fall here,
my nose nestled in the neck of the wind,
that I cannot see myself anymore
churning butter.
The story says things that are forbidden
are the most tempting of all.
They wait for me at the water’s edge,
those who are hungry for terrible fruits,
those who are hungry for the sweet meat
of this heart.
If I were to scientifically explain
this religious gesture of fingers pointed
towards a flaming heart, the one that stops me
nightly, gleaming from behind glass
in the shop window, would I be crucified
for being that passionate?
I am so inspired by spinning things. How slow we spin
in the immaculate air, how close we are falling as we fall
desperately towards earth.
Tell me your secrets.
My flute song makes the masses come mezmorized.
Leave an offering of apples and mirrors for me,
she who convinced the dark and terrible
to let you go, if only, I could hold myself
from looking back-
the earth would be eternal,
it’s springing.
I’m down on my knees.
Slow down time.
first draft.
last line, re-contexted and copied from “woods” by bon iver.