An Aztec Pyramid Called Out To Me

~ and I wept~

Flowers and tiny creatures — Vanitas (second half of 17th century) by Abraham Mignon

Wrapped in torpor’s musk

you stir and sigh, mutter thickly,

voice like soot and licorice,

then silence settles on us

like a rain of feathers.

And I wonder how

wordlessness can be so eloquent.