Singular, sovereign, self-possessed
she flies on a wish—alone
into the liminal...
her wretched test.

A distant song, faintly heard—
mellifluous, a dare,
the call of the Tempest—thunderous,
the call, kommt auf Taubenfüßen daher.

Safe, familiar, ordered—relinquish;
nebulous, becoming, symbolic—embrace.
Transform at the threshold of order and chaos,
deep in the crucible of liminal space.

Cool-minded constructs collapse,
convictions convulse
under a fetid, febrile raptorial pulse.
The Rubicon crossed, the gloaming protracted—
backward glances, longing,
restive turns rabid,
locked in vexation with dreams yet unacted.

Forged in the storm of her dark spell,
atemporal, fecund embryonic cell,
narratives rewritten, new selves conceived—
the offspring of her thought
now clearly perceived.

Formidable flower, roots in hell,
dauntless, refined in fire—
the sacrifice, now the harvest:
Tuberose, Moonflower, Queen of the Night,
she gathers her kind under full moon light.

— Ivoire
New Orleans