If You Wish

Perhaps I lost you in the water –
an ocean or a muddy flood.
Perhaps I lost you in the fire –
fire from below or fire from above.
There is but one fire
And there is but one water,
though fabricated time
keeps ticking why’s and how’s.
Come back to me,
if you wish.

No home –
just a place where I was born –
in exile –
tales of domestic bliss
were ashes in my mouth
On a clear day –
say some –
you can see the whole wheel –
but I was not allowed to talk to those.
You get just this one life –
my borrowed people tell me –
and there’s no use to argue,
but I still know I lost you –
not taught by anyone.
Come back to me,
if you wish.

And all those painted Christian martyrs –
the artist’s orgasmic sigh
as he pinned them like butterflies –
right between life and death –
Blades forever suspended above their lily necks,
and red peony stigmata drilled deep into pale flesh –
how we love to feast our eyes
on suffering that’s long done.
They all thought they’d go to heaven,
They never thought
they’d go on.
Come back to me,
if you wish.

 

NOTE: I sometimes wonder if I’m not losing “intellectual cred” points by writing this stuff about believing in reincarnation. But, here I am, a kook who believes in reincarnation and also writes about it. Not like I’m trying to impose it on anyone.

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