Two

Choosing the world as much as

choosing it not.

Always grappled with the in-between. Not quite there, in one fully

or the other.

Migrating like a bird, or swinging like a mad pendulum

from one to the other. A neurosis of some sort, yearning for intensity in both.

I want to feel it deeply, madly.

One pulls me by the hair and another by the tip of my toes.

Both craving me in wholeness.

I stretch into a vastness. I am a desert.

I dance with this polarity daily to make sense of it, my body becomes the vessel

holding both worlds until my skin is saturated with god and longing.

I dance my shadow into bright and my bright into darkness. back and forth

and back and forth.

Like the sea oscillating, like lovers. Until they merge into unity, until

I can no longer distinguish their edges.

Wounds no longer fresh, but calcified into scar tissue – stronger. I am no longer hurting.

Wounds are doors. I follows them

into the aching. They are the testimony that my mouth tasted both worlds in fullness.

One day I will choose

fully.

For now, I contain them both, rooting in-between

while god sits still within me

my furtive paramour that feeds me daily.

I am opening opening

a bud

the mouth

door

hearts.