a Rite

The Vermilion Moon… I lift up my arms.
Chandra Namaskar. My Saint Vitus’s dance.

My stream is smooth. My breath is deep.
I count pulse. I curve and slip.
Another circle… a bow… a leap…
My rite is done. It’s time to reap.

The Moon is glad. It smiles and winks.
It drips on sheets like bleeding inks…

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