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We hurtle forward and seem to rise
I imagine the deities come and go
without departures
and with my mind infinitely divided and hopeless
like a stockyard seen from above
and my will like a withered body muffled
in qualifications until it has no shape
I bleed in my place
where is no
vision of the essential nakedness of the gods
nor of that
nakedness the seamless garment of heaven
nor of any other
nakedness
Here
is the air
and your tears flowing on the wings of the plane
where once again I cannot
reach to stop them
and they fall away behind
going with me
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