On one side is reckless abandon
To the moment of the eternal Now
To enjoy the sensation
Of desire itself.
On the other is the torture
Of wanting was is lacking
To ask unknowingly
Of the Universe
To give you
More of the same,
The nothingness you have.
Does the sword
Balance on dull edge above your head
Fearful of it ever falling?
Or do you dance
On the sharp edge
Beneath your feet?
Our filters determine
How we see it
How we feel it
How we experience it
Desire is a tool
And in its wielders
Hands is expressed
Either an inner lack
Or the will of manifestation
Desire itself isn't inherently a state of incompletion
Nor the void of internal happiness
As some might have you suppose.
In my hands she is a sword
Of erotic pleasure
In some hands he is a comforting blanket
just before manifestation.
In other hands it is the fuel
For discipline for dreams
And passions.
We can desire from many places and points of view
Which edge do you choose?
