even magic cannot stop its need
to stomp and snap
to unzip order:
if you work a dayjob
wizard
boat captain
orchestra man
beware.
A priesthood called it down
like a moon
men with beards
men with money.
It wanted not love
nor the dreamsizzle of their ambition
but to know itself.
Tell me who I am, it said.
And they made icons of it in black and white
then oxblood and mustard and gloves
like the paws of some bigger beast.
They gave it a voice
falsetto and terrible
though the old school gods know the value
of silence.
They gave it a consort
like it but not
it.
A mirror-creature in a red dress forever
out of reach
as impenetrable and unpenetrating
as itself.