My desire goes hunting

My desire goes hunting

A butterfly alone

writhing legs, walking and seated, not yet set together, come to rest not yet: butterfly in motion

Outside herself, a yogin goes searching Knowledge of Woman

In the far galaxy, across silence, meditation on your winged chariot drawn

Nothing I ever do is good enough for you, and I’m alone

To die, petrified one night, in lonesomeness- even heaven without you is tormented, is samsaric, is true,

To possess you?

What does that even feel like? Is it painful, is it cold, or warm? How did desire to a yogin ever come? On a dream woman

Hunting the butterfly, dreams are prayers to Artemis

Torment is each moment I tabulate, never arriving on time, you simply don’t come wrapped as a gift to desire, I have to take a wild guess, and desire comes, strikes aflame,

Your name is the only real love I’ve never said, g, many galaxies I’ve been and known, butterfly and black sun, you’ve become

Love is hunting, chasing you, cosmic, obsidian goddess: “life and death!“ Hard won.