myth of a hermit crab
when, among strewn stones, the roar, sea-rubbled
coral, drubbed-featureless bones, by the vast
intelligence of salt-lung-water, currents, swells
and cycles of one planet to another
precious, semi-circle moon
when, of intertidal spine or ladder, a rambler up
and down the baking sand, the beach, which burns
my feet, the purge of undertows, the surging rips
and sneaker waves
behind, above, on wind a hunting wing
when, a shadow moving in, to halt
the camera, home, returns me to my knees
knuckled, imprints of gravel on red skin
engraved by seashell shards, held-back, worked-in
to kneeling, as if eons, there, to wait
for when, if ever, the sun can
be still enough to catch
the nestled-in extend
a tentative feeler, a tiny
bristled limb
when those barely let
light breathe or gills retreat
between the lens and
a shuttered eye-
stem
the how-less
greet
//
Phaedrus: (as Lysias, cont.)
but the loving (one)
would not urge (keleuein) you
toward all the loving (ones)
to hold (echein) this thinking-through (dianoia)
// 234β
οὐδ᾽ ἂν τὸν ἐρῶντα
πρὸς ἅπαντάς σε κελεύειν τοὺς ἐρῶντας
ταύτην ἔχειν τὴν διάνοιαν
//
🌗