Story of O

Your soul so toils – your own/
You dragon – you Ouroboros
[loud swallows of lost motifs
took your crown] – old Osiris
joined your roundings to ‘O’/
How your omphalos tore off

[you shouted oxygen’s howl]
Born so cold to our mother’s
spoken tongues [of shouting
of scoldings – of sour notes –
of louder bonds [to control]/
Pour out – more complaints –

to poison others [no women]
Our cool childhood took you
off to crowds for other love –
smothered you – for too long
below someone to love [who
blows you off to destruction

to reprove – to misdirection]
Who sows hope out of love?
You roll your O icon – to loop
to open – to swallow – whole
dragon stories – for Gnostics/
Uncoil your yonic metaphors?