Christopher Bucklow, Mandy Descending


Sometimes he is right behind me
and I lose my sense
of where my arms are, or what my hands
are doing, or are they his
and do they guide me…

He may have the head of a bull
or a woman, or Anubis
but it is always him
pushing at my centre
throwing open all my other lives
rising from my stony floor.

He is the Dark gate
where I dance
two thousand years and more.

Rose Flint