The Ancestor (feat. Toni Oswald)

There is a ghost
Standing center circle
White moles guard four directions
A black moon and an earth moon take to corners
Where we have no map
Where no one knows this ghost
This ancestor holds a black rose
Symbolic ghost of blood
A resurrection
Of white cloth
Yolk to yolk
Like a wheel
This circle has spoken
Where it's dry
White flour mixes with gauze
Cast caked
Sand it – a rain of white powder
Ghosts there
Memory's dust
Holds a whisper back
You cannot imagine the sound
Yolk to yolk
Like a wheel
This circle has spoken
Stretched taught
Holding the path in place
Twelve circles
Ten lead to another world
Epic journey of DNA swims these veins
When you leave this world you will have no eyes
In the summer of my eleventh year many ways were lost
Tied to the blood I grew tight like those that had caked before me
A box of secrets put in a red wagon I pulled through the heat that shadowed me everywhere
I was ablaze in my familiar's folly
The world was dense
I looked for openings but could not find them anywhere
Fear trapped in yolk unable to speak
Words were at the bottom of strings tied to the beginning of the beginning
Like fish pulled up from the deepest sea
Reaching air they will never breathe
I am a mythographer of old dimensions
Maugre hollow eyes
I burst forth into name
A line of blood filled with secrets
The invisible string is tied to my pointy finger as a reminder not to look
But to see
The mind needs a form
So the cloak is a covering for what the eye will not see
The child pulled the red wagon
Shiny in Ra's light
Babies laid down to metal
Hot to touch
These ghosts in me are the ghosts of blood
Dried and dark
But not unseen
When you leave this world you will have no eyes