I was fighting myself,
my reflection, my bones—gristle!
Looking hurts. Laughing ridicules.
Loving is mystery.
The war is essential to existence so terrible, most
existential.
I needed humility.
Grounds become fevers, too much resistance, something
had
to implode.
I thought she was ordinary—prowess like Meriam
—outside the camp, flipping into orbits.
Too confused—facing clarity—unaware of arrival:
the elephant is rabid.
Lately, just vivid inside, just calming daily, so much
has passed by
—I aimed for mystics.
Desert dark esoteria … science … some elements
can’t be explained.
I hear it in my voice. I sense in my reluctance.
I see it in her eyes:
Light.
