your sacred shape
it’s not circle
it’s changing and shifting
thick like liquid wood
charted on the vortices
traits and beliefs and perceptions
plotted along a million axes of type and state
inverse and obverse
the substrate plus time plus environment
is the sacred shape of the individual
your sacred shape
nobody has seen it
least of all the people you know
they can’t see you
some may love you or respect parts of you
but can’t see your sacred shape
can you see it?
as a fact, not a possession?
there are no bad shapes.
all are ridiculously, orgasmically beautiful
reason enough for an omniscient God
to put out her shingle
brighter than a million suns
too magnificent for human consumption
your shape ties the cosmos together
in earth-shattering,
cerebral-hemorrhaging poetry
i will warm myself by it
90 million miles away
if you let me
