At the Museum
I grazed the granite head, silent witness
to bone, a broken mirror, a girl in flower
attuned to the butterfly effect.
They told me not to touch.
But I refuse. Resist such tactile confirmation?
I must pull the string,
Undo the thing, reveal
secrets in packages
skulls inside passages.
Answers and blind submissions are for
amateur spelunkers.
I will investigate.
Horde the clues like jewels
to scatter, belay or betray,
like bread crumbs thick as wormholes
on the white rabbit's trail.
