The sounds made spiky,
jagged angles.
They were like deep water 
gushed up through three mouths.
The woman slowly moved her head 
from side to side.
She lost her right sight,
nor could she recognize the chasm around.
She tried to dance her legs
while wearing a weary dress.
Her blues partner was indistinguishable.
She appeared to be in love with him,
but in fact, she needed to feel changed by
this healing power.

She felt his left hand
gently caressing her breasts
while talking about her wistfulness
as about a solitary stone
in the sea.
A Sephirothic Angel having 
a white wing
and a black one
approached to help her find
the balance between life and death.

This angel remained behind
the right edge of the window
on her bloodied wall.
In the mirror
of time, her white and black face
skin cracked.

Her soul was
old, though still pure
while trying to
crawl out from
its hiding chaos.
It was the end
of the summer, and
the arctic terns flew south
to spend their
next future
on a pack ice.