The Lizard Side

I walked to these flat rocks
to ask my mother why she called me to this earth.
I do not have a camera. I have only this sharp rock
in my chest
and my luminous pen, the one that catches
thoughts. I see everything
from this plane. There once was a river
channeled in two directions.
Tears vaporize. I breathe in
watch another self form across that rift.
Emerging from dry sleep
I am reptilian
a fast catching god
wick tongue tasting tiny wings and crawling mortals.
I wonder if I am too large to see
or if I vibrate across a liquid boundary
a whole image to alert to and slip away from.
Ridged under skin
I am thin
a rolling magician
disappearing from bird shadows.
When I turn my back on this flat land falling behind me
I will pack out my ink
and this sharp rock for lizard shelter.