The sea, that through which one can see the heavens

my feet bleed red as I chase after
      you; run into the space you have
      been; I step over a waste
      land of rubble, a crumbling
      wall that used to hold out the
      myth of the western self.
the blood rises up

it reaches my neck.
the entrance to the underworld is a
      wound; I must climb down it,
      feet first, like a mineshaft. The sunlight
      will stay with me, swirling, dizzying
like the point of creation.

the sea flows open, the mountains spread

I take a step and the world
opens up