Crater of the beginning, mud of death,
endless wreckage,
is this your world,
the serpent you forged
over seven long nights?


You were freshness
in a well
of cloistered water
and the wondrous
balance
of sky over earth.


I reject those hands,
your fundamental bitterness,
these corrodible eyes.


Just one day
for you to build the world,
but you came from the rib of man
and on his side continue to drown.