It Was the Always and Will Be

It was the rat and the snake that ate each other. It was the love in them. It was the buttercup and the lupine that devoured the bees. It was the insectivore legs that tilled the crumbling fields. It was the crumbling fields that carried the legless off. It was the fox that shook its head that sprayed red. It was the upright shadow that wrote a crooked bible. It was the moth that ate the angel – the angel with no mouth. It was the angel with no mouth that spoke the loudest, It was the love in him. Remember only the salt and butter, the spice that sets your table, not the hungry ghosts that swim inside your shell their bellies hollow as dolls eyes. Cicada are the shrimp of the trees. Gulls are the tigers of the air. Jump high enough and meet yourself falling down, the way out is the way in. It was the horse that rode the wind and made it neigh. It was the wind that chased its tail, the swirling tail. It was the body that grew the mind. It was the mind that escaped the body, that ran from the mirage, the slippery shoes of desire. It was the angel of you that tamed the devil, made it eat the joy. It was the angel with no mouth that signed, in waves and spray. It was time, time out of time that made the circle, made the love within it.