Lady K’abal Xook at a door

opening of her house,

elevated in her image of penance,

drawing a thorn-studded cord

through her tongue, her speech

her secret word, her place of power.

She is the pillar before the waters at Pa’chan.

She is the holy woman at heart center.

She induces the Other in her reflection

who rises from the earth, who makes things sprout,

dressed in signs of dominion.

She submits her blood, her reverent being

to the fiery spear that holds the public vision:

Resurrection engaged to battle.