The Winged Beetle

THE TWINS 99 IV Thou knowest me who I am The inmost soul and saviour Of man ; what hieroglyph Of the dragon and the lamb Shall thou and I engrave here On Time’s inscandescable cliff ? V Look ! in the polished granite, Black as thy cartouche is with sins, I read the searing sentence That blasts the eyes that scan it : “ HOOR and SET be TWINS.” A fico for repentance ! VI Ay ! O Son of my mother That snarled and clawed in her womb As now we rave in our rapture, I know thee, I love thee, brother ! Incestuous males that consume The light and the life that we capture. VII Starve thou the soul of the world, Brother, as I the body ! Shall we not glut our lust