Existence

Blessed by thy ignorance

is the beauty of our sad love

And the cradle of heaven

has grown to separate the past

The wordless whisper

and the heatless touch

To turn our body over

And spit out our guts

Locking your fingers on mine

Like the sea of wombs and death

The tips of our tongue, moving with ice

Like the fire in our sex,

Unified

The passing of our existence

has more love than heaven

And in our struggles,

we see the touch of creation

together and apart

as existence...