Apr 162012
 

I am blind, blinded, a lost mole escaped out
Of his long house, for now my home is in your self;
In you, my soul falls up out of itself
The way a lotus floats over its roots.
In you, I am so close to being air, to flying!
You pull my umbilical cord through my mouth,
And in my center forms a silver pool of truth;
Almost, in you, my me, my I, is dying.
We are together as the cords of a twisted rope.
Together, we turn back from frogs into tadpoles;
Soon we’ll be egg-sacks, then a single egg, pale.
We kiss with our mouths open as if saying “Hope.”
You, who have my sight, my life, my sighing,
Come be blind with me beyond our dying.

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