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Get a copy of this writing in the Mark Fleury 2017 poetry book the Eight Wheeled Doorway of Serpent’s Head on line:

The Blood of the Dawn

Mark Fleury

The blood of the dawn
Following the Winter Solstice night
Falls when I exhale,

Touching the furthest reaches
Of a breath, named Spirit only when

The demon, possessed by a God
Who is the definition of outside,

Is me. The uncoiled, internal
Poem, touched by content.

And commanding demon-self,

The Dream-ship, the Eyesight of Imagination, an Object that sees

That we’re all the same Angel, is the only thought
That’s outside the history of the world.

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