this luminous language of s(k)in
ancient and uninhibited consecration
across infinity in apparitions
of temporal incandesence
leaks light
Holy is how the bone conquers
the surrendering flesh, throbbing
radiant and electric with divine fire.
Burn into me
until I weep in tongues
every thrust
a visceral invocation
a longing and discontented
bead in my secret rosary
as I mouth deliberate
benedictions to the otherness,
an infidel breathing
your sacred and vast oblivion


Salon.com
Comments
Divine passion, indeed.
Well said, rated.
Extremely well defined, St. John of The Cross, one of my favorite mystics had much in common with the women above.