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14 August 2013

Strange Dancers pt. 2

2. Mirage

And yet we are little more denuded than before
By eyes on us upon our shamelessness 
Glittering eyes emerging amid stones and scrub
Surrounding us a shrieking Mirage dark like night
It as as being throttled by space
   Look, you
A many-faced Mirage that is as many-voiced
Enveiled and piercing the quarry walls with a treble wail
   You vilify yourselves
   You in your ample prostrations 
   Your mere body 
   This is repugnance
   Entertained at the expense of 
   That of which we cannot speak but with peace upon it 

   How you ignore and defile our creed
   How you affront goodness on these
   Our shores 

   Where is your shame 

Night-veiled Mirage sweeping towards us 
We are rooted still in the ocean’s advance
It punctures the dull contiguity of day-sky
The Mirage waves its many arms more terrible than 
Sexless Kali of nightmares Its arms winged with ten thousand fingers
To root out and excise our essential nudity
To clothe us by stripping further still than those rays of the sun unsheathed
Whose fires penetrate a thousand thousands
Of vast absences layered between us, we and Mirage 
Such distance It imagines It can surpass to
Excise agency and unselfconsciousness

And yet the sun, that fissile orb
Does not ignore the cloth of Its uniform righteousness 
It too festers beneath the blinding prism
Waters lap at our toes, we trespassers rooted in contested waters
Lazy like one made mindless before an incomprehensible disaster
Voices within the Mirage no longer speak in harmony
For the first time Its interior faces regard one another with wonder
It regards Itself for the first time and rippling through those faces
Is sheer wonder and terror as that which once was indivisible recognizes
The agents of its schizophrenia.

For the moment our flesh holds fast
For the moment each of us holds fast 
Freckled in our infinite imperfections before the 
Rarifying veil, the fractal cloth of the faces inhabiting the Mirage
Those nuclear rays spot the Mirage’s cloth with white ash
And for a time we are, my lambic-drunk friends and I
At an impasse as the extinct and fossilized
Vegetation springs upwards from our shadows which like water
Our fissile umbra a shade of darkness enlivening stony ferns
Our shade separating Earth and hallucinations of the heavens
This is our unity.

The Mirage reels as though drunk as our shade
Strikes and divides the world
Black and many-limbed and in motive advance Itself caught 
In our fissile shade we inherit from our lysing star overhead
The Mirage reels. 

Glittering watchers gather like wave-swept agates on the ridge
Pebble-skinned monitor lizards an arm’s length are only juveniles
Their scales are sapphire and opal and eyes like polished jet
Among the fluctuating foliage which returns to its ancient fullness
We seek no shelter behind it
And despite the intensity of the sun and skyfire 
Fossils rejuvenate and turn from stony grey to verdant emerald 
They encircle us on this contested shore
The Mirage and us, we four

We are naked as we begin our counterstep.

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