solstice

The journey even in the mind has drawn to a close
For we have met again, and it is all new again
There is no reflection, just a dizzying sense of –
Self and selflessness.

A newer understanding of the four
Letter word which kept us up all night last Thursday,
Which I am so wary of, which infiltrates the way we
See and think and touch and smell. I resist the word.
I am in no position to embrace it. Then you hit me over
The head with its overwhelming truth: that appropriation
Of the soul.

Of my soul. It is far beyond desire. Desire is
Cute but it is not hard-edged. Desire is for children. Love
Is hard-edged, dangerous, the fiercest beast in the jungle.
Desire is a pussy cat, lovely to play with. Love is a wild
Cat. It can tear your heart out like an Aztec priest.
It has no sense of decorum or restraint. It is cannibal
And vegan. A saint on a plinth in the Sinai desert or the
Last living warrior, scarred, fighting for her very existence.

We have known all these things, known them all
Along. We look into each other’s eyes, knowing what
Lurks there, out of sight

A moth flies into the halogen bulb.
It bounces away, disappears. A night so full of beauty
Is a night full of peril.

Hold my hand. Wherever it may be
That we find ourselves headed. Hold it tight. Not like a
Friend. Hold it like a lover. Your strength is deceptive.
There is safety in that strength.


21.06.05