Mags

Mental Contagion

Look! a many pointed stag,
silver muscles midnight-chiseled,
in my hands my keys, and I the visitor.

Moon transform this beast to Being,
scorn nobility and so bless,
the luck that made you look, this fire in your chest.

Heart to beat, mind to muscle,
ripple, fly, a ghost unbound,
ancient as the trees, gone without a sound.