A kiss in the emptiness

You thought you were right. You believed it was so,

so you thought to cut the night in two

relieved to state that you know

how it should be, if it could be

that which we ought to see.

You thought you were wrong. You believed it was so,

as you, caught naked in the light,

were retrieved from frozen places

like a river ashamed of its flow

or a bird in full song suddenly quiet,

as if you thought you were wrong.

When will you stop believing, my lovely,

and feather this form across the night?

Can you disperse in living freedom,

blissful and transitory,

as a kiss in the bliss of emptiness?

In freedom forever held

by a boundless dominion of beauty?