the epistemologist’s love letter

the epistemologist’s love letter

i brushed your hair

with a boar’s tusk,

silent, i watched

as the coarse waves

unwrapped themselves,

saw the follicles

through a magnifying lens

and read the words

written on the circumference

of the follicle. why

are we here in earth’s stomach

flopping upside down

like sedated seals? why do i have

a boar’s tusk, being neither

hunter nor archaeologist?

give me bones and stones

multifarious in their meanings.

uncork the wine for our victory

of will, and may our ideas

endure still when we lie

in a canyon on the seafloor.


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