The Holy Numbness

Isn’t it within the expanse flowing betwixt us;

where we lie afloat, absorbed, as a revelation;

absolved of the riddle of our scorched personas;

banished unto a conjugating sense of desolation;


no enigmas separate me from you, you the veil;

that is casted on my senses, just to cleanse me;

of all comprehension, that fills this holy void;

whose only purpose just to enshrine your madness;


the moment a drop of divine mercy, granted to us;

in lieu of the sea that broods inside your eyes;

and a tormented trickle that flows out from mine;

we permeate by it on the wingbeats of our sighs;


our separation, sustained in the womb of reality;

is the very child about to be delivered unto us;

we will feed it with our fears, with our despair;

and let it grow into a dream wherein we flourish;


mirror of longing you know is such a solitary canvas;

refuses any brushstroke save of the silence of heart;

and when it cracks in the hopestruck faces and breaks;

hope bleeds through its feet, the hand wipes off life;


we just the endpoints of a journey, of a possibility;

gateways to the wilderness of love, the tomb of loss;

for whatever is delivered in the communion of nothing;

is too sacred for desire to attain and apathy to know;