Charlie is drawing me down into myself. I stare inward in the center of my unseeing eye
at the red spot that transforms itself into a multipetaled flower—
the shimmering, swirling, luminescent flower that lies deep in the core of my unconscious.
I am shrinking. Not in the sense of the atoms of my body becoming closer and more dense,
but a fusion—as the atoms of my-self merge into microcosm.
There will be great heat and unbearable light—the hell within hell—
but I don't look at the light, only at the flower, un multiplying, undividing itself back from the many toward one.
And for an instant the shimmering flower turns into the golden disk twirling on a string,
and then to the bubble of swirling rainbows, and finally I am back in the cave where everything is quiet and dark
and I swim the wet labyrinth searching for one to receive me... embrace me... absorb me... into itself.
That I may begin. In the core I see the light again, an opening in the darkest of caves,
now tiny and far away—through the wrong end of a telescope—brilliant, blinding, shimmering,
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