Maybe the Other undresses
in dark places. I wake up now
with one pebble in mind. Why
am I still here? In the Unkown-tree,
weight pulls bones free
from joy. Highness—
what limits! People think, lift off
Grounded-Dark. Join us
in Illusion, Sanctuary.
The Other speaks my name in the briar. Don’t turn,
I think, into ash
just now. Something tells me
my Mare waits for me in Stillness—
the Other body braided in her mane.