Egypt. / by Alyson Khan

Chunky masses bury curvy precious materials and remains. Hot spot on the globe radiates with the purest current Sent straight up through the earth sphere And down again from the bluest sky. Who sits in the center receiving messages from the divine? Do you sometimes? Do I? One time I was locked tight in levitation Praying to guides and gods Then a human walked in the room And asked a question.

{This post is the 6th in a series of writings inspired by the titles of my most recent wood assemblages.}