By the door to oblivion I set all that is precious. Someone once walked through and lost their self. I am afraid of leaving nothing behind.

Beyond darkness, there exists something much more inhibiting;

loss of self or a second birth.

The sound of prayer

strikes me as your

first lover.

You and the Holy One

as you chase oneness

-and oneness is always near.

But she could not fully meet you

and now you lay,

your head to the Western Wall

praying for reunification.

Your beauty is

like lilies in a pond

blessing everything

-the angels become shadows

to bless me unaware

Be rid of excess

and become like a forgotten poet

If only to remember your self

An angel approached sunlight

aching to become its warmth

yet warmth and light are not the same

Is it the rain

which washed away my tears

that becomes our drinking water?

Three hands

of self, love and fear

come gloved in gold

-not made of, but dressed as

Is this a decision or a choice?

If I met my self of yesterday

I would tell her

how quickly the day had passed

Why is it that

the soldiers go by

in their uniforms?

-and we passed many trees

to come here.

To get three new papers

saying I am I.

Before the night ran out

or the suns shadow ceased to grace

there were flowers here