A Blow to the Head

enough to knock the earth from its orbit—

O I was cracked open

god streaming like daylight into the chamber

the nausea of my elliptical swerve

toward consciousness and away again

—I retreated into the citadel—

walked quiet pathways during the bombardment

(which was habit-forming, I was fortified)

knew that beyond the wall something

was spilling, blood or yolk onto tile—I made

my way to the innermost room.

My hand was the key—found her strung

like a diver—eyes shut, calm and before

the old world dragged me back I loosed

the cord from her wrists—woke

back into a different time with the end

of it in my hand