The sages say longing
is the most sacred emotion.
It is the soul’s desire
to be reunited
with its true state,
I lay in my bed, every night
experiencing the sacred. Consumed
by this peculiar desire
to be obliterated, licked
head to toe by its
I wonder how many have lain here
like me, under peeling ceilings,
thatched roofs, comets and
bright stars. Centuries of longing
like threads weaving together the palms
of all of these empty hands.
The saints and mystics had ecstasy.
I am almost certain this is the same.
Here is the impossible union.
Baptismal waters that give birth to this
exhilarated pain. Here among the whirling
planets is my religion,