Stitches



On the path
by this wet site
of old fires -I light a small fire
in the rain.
On this road, I long for the mantle
of the great wanderers, who lighted
their steps by the lamp
of pure hunger and pure thirst,
and whichever way they lurched
was the way.
As above: the last scattered stars
kneel down in the star-form of
the Aquarian age
You live Under the Sign
the carnal nightmare soars back
to the beginning.
Being forever in the pre-trembling
of a house that will Fall.
Living brings you to death, there is
no other road.
I, too, have eaten the meals
of the dark shore
.
Can it ever be true -all bodies are one body,
one light
made of everyone’s darkness,
together?
Lastness is brightness,
the self is the least of it.
Let our scars fall in love.
Here, here is the world.
This mouth.
This Laughter.
These temple bones.
Yours, in the darkness,

~ B ~

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