the coyote smoking in the mirror
is one of the strangest and most enigmatic deities,
like no other of the mythical creations of myself.
a primordial and fearsome source,
invisible like the night sun,
it seems to have overwhelmed my spirit
and influenced my feelings and thoughts.
i am a magical instrument,
allowed to observe the world
and command lightning-like flashes
that summoned storms
in the form of written words.
questions are just spells
I ask my fanged reflection
in the morning mirror.