beneath this given name,
another, who begins
inside agave limbs,
splayed into sky
& waiting, then
offers
under cover of night
an enormous stalk
to flower unto death
among insects made
of the yielding flesh
of cactus who yield
again, their bodies
to dye
el rojo sagrado
who gather near
the garden, to count
them, the bodies under
other names
and what about cantera
that volcanic mind
stoned beside the bodies
swelling green with water
who know what lives
they carry, not theirs
to own
who only open, close;
store, then scar; give
the body to the bat
to carry home
beside this bloom,
entombed near the
remembered forms
of ancient saints,
interred bones, this gold––
this name
this name
this
name
in gold
these gilded names
wait. even the saints
go to seed, releasing
all that can be borne in bone
to other forms, to spore
to ash, to dust,
then wind
to sky
again.
