The Auspices

I Ex Caelo

Thunder roiled in my veins—a thrombosis

unshakeable. And you, warm-breasted echo,

watched idle. I shook my squall-marked skin,

a soiled cloth, swept and wrung myself under

the black-pinned night—each clutter of stars,

another stain to spill over.All this portends

windstorms, chill seizure of sickness. Vapor

of feathers unlatched from their bird-gods.

Stay: reflection, bright idol. I will undress myself.