There are gods in drums, just
as there are gods in ankle
bells and gods in the fine
reeds the women of the village
gather to weave mats out of.

But what god convulses
in this body of mine, driving?
She will love or she will die.
What god implodes in her
personal chaos and
seizes me in its storm?
A god like an artery,
who leads me, possessed,
further and further away from
the dark flame
of my interior.

And what god, out of what
time, is it who lives within
this drum – this hummingbird
heart – this undimmed undammed
untamed beast that beats down with
the hooves of a thousand horses,
floods my veins with
the blood of a thousand mercenaries.

I will love or I will die.