He descends through us from on high
Quetzalcoatl in his cowboy hat
Befallen from a sky
all a’glitter and a’knived

He comes to our poor land
a’writhing and sublime
His face a shroud of feelings
cleft with dull dragon eyes

The bone deified
skin chalked and high
transuent, translucent, transient
. . . and shy

He materializes in masquerade
with his camouflaged, rhythmed sigh
Appears and opens obscured doors
those cloaked between notes scryed

As we come to dance with deity
enthralled and wildly awry
The air clogs with sloughed skin
feet finally given freedom, and fly

To worship wing~ed dawns and hips
twisted and long denied,
the journey to our ego
driven, numbed and decried

As our bodies, mounted and rarefied
rush onward to the vistas spied
We freely surrender charge
of our vernal and vainless pyres

[Charlotte Ozment is a homesteading Texan on several acres full of devas, dogs and squirrels.  As she passes through her day, random words and phrases come to mind, and she can sometimes put them to paper before they fade. Her work has previously appeared in Carcinogenic Poetry and Babel Lit.]