I pass through the gates
that landed here before my time
artificial bodies of water

chlorine, garden chairs, elliptical headdress

I follow the motherlode but cannot keep up
spiral stairways, glimpse of ankle, almost calf
into corners disappearing
led into mysteries of the mansion
turquoise, marine atmospheres, a prescience in hidden rooms

her dress has changed
as death clothes are buried in landfills
I’m a bout of circular signals
like the sign on her forehead beyond the veil

I am fissures, breath rising from catacombs
but this is my world and not hers
I am in the dim places still
unlike her, luminous
I am still a shadow treading smoke and mirrors
the scroll of the arc that falleth from blackwashed wall
cathedral gotha, end night shores
the scratching of the trees in spectral moonlight
piercing fantomas, ever iteras