and broke.

Tied the wrist behind the fist, not such

a broad hand open

and it was

a wide mouth. I tried my arm

at the elbow

in the pit

but these gave up light ly

in pairs. So I left my arms

without a fight.

Anywhere

below my waist the string found

knots to tie

and I— with knowledge of

knots negligible

with my teeth

cut them.²

Hang the line next on my hips until spinning

turn silk.

Turn silk.

I hadn’t made any turns

per force/

that is—directly—

That’s how stories go:

suppose

hero finds a way with string

hero follows a line from the mine (or the well or the womb

or the tomb)

from the birth/

of one with horns

to the white light opposed³ it.

Hero turns hips. Turns silk. Turns profit. Hands tied. The maze

remains the same:

Maaninguall’raq macamek tang’rpakartaan’itukut.⁴

WiRafkuuq ilag’ngauq.⁵

It all comes out in the wash, with the tide.

I wanted to find the way out

I threaded/

line between my teeth

baited my hook and

swallowed the knot until it anchored

sure beside a mother

readying

to break.