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Magus.
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Out of reach,
I cannot tell you what
definitively I mean by this,
a magus figure
standing over me
stroking limbs like
makeover & a reassuring accent
no, I cannot tell you more
than a gut thing, a sense of
what we’ve done to ourselves,
(to others,)
the bed we’ve laid down in.
Inversions without end
in formative years
makes circling
an old habit, an awkward conversation
embalmed by those cool hands,
the promise of land,
protection
the satisfying of daily proceedings.
The magus, what a hero.
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