Black Moon Lilith: 5

Helene Cixous knows a descent


a ladder hooked


on the brim of broad lips, a circle in a sphere.




a dazzling black blanket of moss, spiders’


glitter eyes—you turn your back on the day


to step your first foot forward,




tnto what might be below a surface


a cut, a window in the fabric.


Peer under at what happens when you sleep still


into what might be eternal night.


This is where


the writing begins.