I must be closed to this reckless sensuality, bringing gifts, gifts...each gift a torment....

It's terrifying, the soothing, the jasmine caress,
Invisible body of the Sun...

Without you here it's nothing, an enemy..

Like supernal bells, the faint terrible trembling of this leaf-struck wind will continue, until eyes and ears and all are silent, slashed, righteous...
black pain bleeding out the whispers of that constant, close,
voluptuous sky.

There's a new vision: my days laid out like steps of rough granite,
Each step an agonizing, knee-wracked pilgrimage..
No holy site, no holy pool, no redeeming swoon..

Only minute-to-minute battles,
Scraping slowly over edges,
Keeping thoughts of wind and warm
And celebrated jasmine moon away
For just the smallest breathing time.