Her shadow shone of antiquity, a sacred
peak’s fog, Demeter’s breath, fate’s aroma―
magnetic impressions of cave descents.
One descent shall be two―a two that tastes
like one. Just as fire and water make magma,
so shall we mold inside and out.
Demeter’s breath is both seed and sickle, so
shall we open earth and expose neck, entwine
bodies―two halves of which touch water.
Two others touch earth. Together, we shall
see ourselves weaving life’s fabric, painting
the frescos, and plucking the strings.