[21 October 2019]
And so we baptise our longings,
Transform our desires,
Give up from them that which we can no longer ourselves give:
Selves, whole selves, holy selves,
Selves worth saving;
We breathe –
Each word, each moment, stands as a testament to itself:
An icon of abstractions, a temple of fragments,
A shoreline of things consigned to memory
(Or best left forgotten – I tried, once, a long time ago,
But I found it harder to live without them
Than to live with them): A whisper, a word –
Pushing, giving, surrendering,
An aching, deeper into, a coming to taste, to see, to know –
Offering of self to self, asking nothing in return but that
We go back –
Back to the time of sleep and sleeplessness,
To the time of loss and longing,
When the rivers ran white and the sun streamed gold
Drawn from need, drawn from desire,
Drawn from pools and fonts and reservoirs
Old and new as life itself.
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