poem: then your angel comes

thinnest rations thin to
finest gossamer
ghost shadows of missing
scree fools, the ambiguity
falls on deaf ears,
the timbrels measure
the loss of density
the dance of fire in
the nostrils, the passion that
weighs heavily, sampling
fates, delegating
the weary taxes,
the many ways
I made another &
another & far too many
to mention. I whisper, Yemaya
sounds the alarms, Mary
takes one step farther,
the serpent down my spine
shudders at her touch:
there is a willingness to convey
a willingness to pray, mercies untold
at the fingertips, the web of
inner worry worries
the worry alleys & I 
am home, I am wakened
in the rising flood
of blue mercy,
inside out, the "rigid" search
points down the Sabinal
corridors, blue country
filigree, thread not,
want not, it was a nod
to the sad pages,
the rising towers of Santa Elena
a fading dream,
a song of return
wolf mothers
gated striations of the
orphan moon &
once more I gather my spoon
my thinnest thinnings
my gossamer friend
my gossamer addictions
my friendless womb
time in a dance
with fervent glory
time in a dance
with all you can muster
time in a dance
with your ageless story.