In the beginning was

In the beginning was
the word for a berth. Farther
from the name
and still indistinguishable
from the stench—spirit
as movement!—of nature.
Close to the puzzle,
which is
a solution. The grinding
of a continent, one or another.
The rumbling of the sea.
The throbbing where
the blood comes from. Where
the Yes!—body appears. And,
like in a fairy-tale . . .
The mirror on the wall.
And rage. Beauty in the eye
of a bystander.