Chains rattle,
The cobra slides through
The smoke
That screens the trapdoor
That leads
To the parallel universe.

Where cloves and leaves
Festoon the heads of our alibis
And frozen violets
Chirp and whisper
To the simmering fog and its hat and cane.

I burrowed deep into the ground
Hoping I’d find the key to my sight.

In turn, I overturned ashes and dust
Burnt residues of a feast primordial.
I can’t hasten, just wait.

The wind whispers no more,
then exhales and exhumes my body.

The lilac cocks its head to the left
And I step to the right
And fall through the ice
And emerge naked and unknown.