Where I am, memory 
        is not. Where love  
        is I am not. Where 
        I am not, there is 
 In passing by, a casual touch, 
and the subversive force of love 
displaces my being. 

 Room of red roses. 

 The demiurge’s gaze transfixes 
me, demands the text of bygone 
days, in exchange.  
 I hereby give thou, unmerciful demiurge, the text 
of bygone days, its story, its plot. I sacrifice on 
the altar of creation the story about the woman 
with many names, about the woman with a split 
face, about the woman with different masks; I 
sacrifice the story about she who once was, but no 
longer is. 

 I give her to thee to feast on; I give thee this 
woman of the past, who sponges on my body, 
who has riveted herself to my shadow; I give her 
to thee to feast on. 

 Thou, unmerciful demiurge, opens the gate to the 
earth’s interior and drinks her blood, greedily 
desiring. Thou folds the sacrificed body in thee 
arms, and devours it. The earth closes again. Once 
more satisfied. 

 Greed fulfilled. The hellish alchemical fire 
nourished, gives thou back what thee has 
devoured. Body moulded charred, returns in 
slings of fire.  
 I tremble in my desire. You 
 penetrate my inner room. I  
 gasp as your head  
 touches the cradle of love,  
 and strikes the chord that is  
 the end beginning of my  
 being in the world. 

   You hold 
 my life in your arms, tasting 
 my nakedness carefully 
 at the edge of Paradise,  
 you sink into 
 the warmth of the rut. 
 We make love. Nakedly 
 and relentlessly, safely 
 anchored in our hot, moist  
 You shine in the lamp’s shattered light, 
 falling over your glowing body. 
 I see you. I see you  
in your beauty, in your perfection. I  
know you see mine, as you 
reach for the light of  
my eyes and catch 
the flickering flame of eternity in  
the palm of your hand, carrying it 
with you, inside, concealed 
for the eye, but unveiled in the rhythm 
of your love-making. 

             You see me. You see me 
leave myself and come 
towards you, as I lose myself  
in the inexorable force  
where you are, 
neither man nor woman; weave of  
upper and lower-case letters;  
body of translucent  
           follows its own  
logic, and finds its form.