I cling to the absence of arrogance
knowing I won’t forever.
Unspeak it from existence.
(And working to be a purer love.
Working to be as
Love.)
Signs are not Signifiers,
though I forget which is which,
and
We are not Fullygod.
In all ways but sin — which is to
say, in no ways since sin
welcomed Fall.
Correct my Nature.
Unspeak it from existence.
I cling to the absence of arrogance
inside my lungs. – Stifling.
I forget to be the other than.
I forgot to have a meaning.
Knowing I must collapse cold from
my hips still frightened,
my heartbeat pulsing,
my smile unsure but barely forgiving,
my echoes unraveling,
and my lungs still echoing.
It was never a question,
since it is and I am and
so must You Be.
Made in Love.
Birthed in Love
Clothed in Love
Welcomed in in Love
eternally so and unbeginning.
To sing of Love in my own language
is only isolating.
Babble called such in
good reason and wet.
Babble called such
knowing it must
be unspoken from
existence.
Love is of only value
in rainwater.
and weed.
A careful study of my doings
and dealings and
all manners of presidings.
What happened to the arrogance
wrapped around my neck?
(Still stifling)
will be, is be, is to come.
Forget tense.
and Sway.
It never stops being
surprising,
the pervasive contentment.
Unspeak me from existence
independent of this love.
and Sway.
intelligently irrelevant 