Knowledge comes to me in packets of dark
always in wraps of blood, in clots of hearts,
enveloped pangs that force strange question marks
into ramrod straight, aligned like broken parts
from a meteor-flight, erased slow mo sparks,
pixel blooms of a darker black on black.
In the lightning lunge of a knife sharp truth
unseen because it comes in at the back
unfelt till it strikes skin in one smooth
movement and falls into a million cracks
the shattered baked-earth idol of a god
a minor deity in many-petalled mess
both worshipper and worshipped fractured, flawedsplit in zigzag fissures of a marbled darkness.