Where are you? The splendor of creation
awaits. Beauty veiled, she dallies, playing
with the wings of birds passing, swaying
her hips with the wind, wanting to dance,
to bring you music from planets and clouds.
Call her by right name, hear her answer.
Male or female, she is yours: lingering,
singing and playing, holding out
a braceleted hand, all tinkle and glint.
She wants to roll ecstasy over and under
your skin, swirl bubblings into your blood,
breathe you away through the waves of the ages.
You can stay where you are (where
are you?) and just listen. No, don’t even
listen, just be. Unmask. That is all.
She will offer herself, unasked and unasking.
No demands from her, ever, to know: where are you?
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