Symmetric fire

I draw a mirror
Then two,
Then…
All the atoms are assembled
To make a symmetric world

My left is your right
And then the parallel lines touch
To become curves
In the invisible space of light

Black faced
There is never an end of knowing
The fire
At the navel, at the heart
And at the summit
As it holds the symmetry
Within the asymmetric art

I pick up the pieces of squares
Formed, unformed
Orange and red and shaded
While my steps are curved out of an angle of a march
To draw a blue rebel of line
Of my own spherical prison
To find...
That bird of airy wings