Crumbs
I had
Bread crumbs
and patience
forsaken in marking the way
now impossible
to tell
deeper
or
into the
Heart
or towards the sunlit path
of the labyrinth
breath and pulse
heightening the presence of this turn
towards the Chordae
the darkness is
Darker
or so the widening
Resonance of what
I hear from within
seems to say.
I feel heavier
but denser
The salt of my body
and the blood of your thighs
I am now faster
in the central
chamber
I am surrounded by a single mirror
(more of a scent than a look)
for there was no light to reflect
the beast staring back at me
and I felt the smell of the animal
tattooed
the tribal essence
into bricks of the labyrinth
it says,
“you lead me here.”

I remember the loaf
turned into a bowl
of crumbs
stamped with the visas
of my journey
a lifetime trying to repair it
make it whole
And how the loaf seemed
like the end,
the journey’s end
The altar
of the host
and the blood
of your body
made me
salt

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