Cartographer's Ghost

(AD Culvain)

feet on the floorboard tongue tastes dust sky a blister compass rust I kissed a road and it bent in reply Snakeskin path beneath a jellyfish sky Maps are liars, so I ate mine whole Now I dream in detours, drift in scrolls where the wolves draw lines where the clouds confess I chase the hum of the nowhere-ness fold my breath into a sail let the ink-storm tell the tale Bootprints bloom on breathing stone Mountains blink — they are not alone A cactus sang my name last night In Morse code moonlight, blinking bright Oh—(miles)—to—(nowhere)—go Skies stitched in vertigo Turn the wheels of undertow Every step, a vertébrae In the spine of the world today Fold the day into a paper crane Launch it from the cliff of pain Let gravity forget its name Let borders blush and melt in rain Found a passport in a raindrop Stamped by thunder, signed by moss Traded time for riddled space Left behind my shadow’s face Where do we go when the path dissolves? Who holds the stars when the map evolves? We ride the curl of chaos slow Cartographer’s ghost says, “let it flow” let it flow let it go let it glow miles and miles and miles and no