Ravan had ten heads
Each one an inverted medusa,
Twenty eyes watched those swaying hips,
a golden bait – cross the line, cross the line, cross the line
The benevolent Mother Goddess also has a black face
One of the seven tongues of Agni
Severed ball of blood clutched in her hands.
They speak of uterus and hysteria
O three-eyed truth liberate me from the fear of death
Words attached like placenta
Aborted prematurely
The four heads of Brahma chanting endlessly
Dance, spin: the tandav of a dervish
They, them, he, she, that, then – all stories pegged on the cosmic clothesline
This is you, you are here.
Feel your human pain – bleed, bleed, bleed.