Passage 2.
Halfway over
the river that flows both ways
I turn to film
the place where we got inebriated.
The moon goddess rules here
driving her silver chariot
contrapuntally
to glowering bowers.
She gathers up
last night’s
dreams
of being transported to Peru
for high school
with forced manual labor
covering the cost of tuition.
Amid my longing for an embrace
that never comes
on the torture of the mind
in restless ecstasy
Selene sweeps up
my fragments
as she searches for
eternally sleeping
Endymion
kissed
father to her
fifty daughters.
She ravishes me.
The Nanticoke Lenni Lenape
know nothing of her.
But the moon still holds her sway
just not in forced
transformation
of Smokepaw
man to wolf to man
in the wolf clan Tipisk.
Twice the horn sounds
for our docking.
The rocks that look like trees
near.
High tide
has washed me through.
The eye of the night
is fixing me.
