& because thy Love lights;
out of the lips of thine firmament,
surrendering the lust of the world to meaning.
I’m still instilled in thine each endless fold,
in thine story, none dared, knew, nor told.
Through thine exuberance, my misery’s convening;
an immensity rendering my morning permanent,
out of my starless nights.
Because thy love lights;
lingeringly kissing my own bane,
chiseling my coarse manliness, overtly,
palming the pieces of my existence, covertly,
commanding my skies to ever rain.
So all thy love could crystal-light again.
So as to peek at the remembrance,
freezing while blazing,
ceasing at gazing,
wondering at the entrance
at the rosy gates of thy presence.
That life could never stop erasing,
out of existence’s essence.
Because thy love lights;
Ever drawn unto the bosom of my skies.
I find you leave arriving, I see you die surviving,
ever creating, ever reborn,
bearing, of nights, each garish morn
out of thine omnipresent eyes.
I reconcile in endless fights,
with thine wavy shades and whites.
Because thy love lights;
I drench up all thine sultry signs,
into mine quivering weary heart,
I fail to try — to try to start
at grasping the art of grasping
the hues of thine eyes, that ever — ever last;
a chasm of resurrection,
a sin of sweet perfection,
That afflicted affection of lowering my mast;
Upon thine shoreless shores,
Upon thine capricious cores,
That lush me up into thine skies
of serene silky satin white,
of a foreseen fiery morning bright
— coyly hiding in thine embrace,
naively escaping thine face.
Because thy love lights;
unsettling my stillness,
mine remedy and illness
of tender tiresome nights;
so full of mystic prayers,
so full of frantic stares,
That capsize our suffusion,
Of one another within.
Our sole virtue and sin,
To be one another’s allusion.
Because thy love lights;
Much of my garish flares.
A glimmer that ever airs
of glory gleaming prayers;
one sublime supplication
— partaking in creation.
Because thy love lights;
A morning out of my nights.
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