I seek the silence between the spaces, the almost and the engulfing,
Making pilgrimage to the possible.
Changing leaves float down, a riotous benediction.
Ripples on the water echo the waves of longing within
As gossamer strands of hope weave windows into the citadels we carry
Heavy in our stomaches, walling away the places where our nourishment begins.
Have you forgotten the taste of it coating your tongue, the spice of hungering?
How receiving moves through you, languorous and wild,
Fur and fire and feathered winds brushing the unnamed within you?
You already know it, turning it to stalking hunters,
The forbidden mapped into the words beating at your temples and the hollows of your throat,
Betrayed in the sudden tremor, the flinching stillness at the sharpened edges
Where you delineate the allowable.
It will not cease to call you, lapping at the foundations on which denial is built.
You are it’s home, my friend,
A place of unfurling vines and exaltation, a cathedral of bared teeth and healing wounds.
Still, it waits for your welcome, the invitation at edge of your vision,
The pause when you lift your feet, somehow disappointed by the silence
Where the sound of your own song’s lilting
Drew you into the world, that blooming nectar none but you may drink.

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