Poem By A. L. Breitling
Proteus the shape shifter,
in every way potential,
arose: broad shoulders, rounded breast,
divided between ocean and miasmal mist –
Qui est ni masculin;
Qui est ni feminin;
donc depourvu de conscience,
et depourvu de substance.
For the uroboric dragon cannot move
beyond the static, self-devouring dance.
I have trod through this long age
with fish beneath my feet
and stood amazed as anima
became harlotry on unswept streets.
But the uroboric dragon cannot move...
And in the darkness I perceived
the snake surround the egg.
I joined myself with my own shadow,
danced for warmth within the Chaos,
fed myself with my own seed
and watched as Day and Night divided.
Yet the duality of the vision – is illusion.
From the unity of myself, issued Creation.