It's just me throwing myself at you,
romance as usual, us times us,
not lust but moxibustion,
a substance burning close
to the body as possible
without risk of immolation.
Nothing will unfold for us unless we move toward what
looks to us like nothing: faith is a cascade.
... It's the rare
God who needs less stroking that a rock
Star or poetician ...
Anguish is the universal language
Silence is so steadfast, you know. It is so ample, after all.