Le paradis n'est pas artificiel …

May 20, 2004


I only wish to be thought and experience
         that is
enough to explain this rift in being.

If I were neither woman nor man
         but Boddhisatva this rift
would be the round edge of an empty bowl,
like a scar.

Desire, I want none of your three palaces,
         passionless, perfumed; do not ornament me
with gilden scraps, usurious novelties
fill me with colours I do not know,

Reflection, shadow. An object that curves
the secret tomes
         of others' minds like light
between the bars of form an aesthetic null,
like any prison.

I wish to be the contents
        of the alms bowl, a shifting, gaping thing;
an empty shell just full of mirrors,
reflecting no visible image or object.

Posted by Delire at May 20, 2004 12:48 AM
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