It may be the last fringes of love
That are left to be experienced
Until it all soars unto the pathless path
Of eternal union.
Love has to know death too dearly and intimately
To reveal to itself
It’s own presence.
Seek not the mortal pleasure of touch
Or the sooth of a cozy companionship.
Make love your spiritual path
That annhiliates all sense of separateness
Between you, the beloved and this world.
Let it be a Conjoint succumbing to grace
– Musings of the inner beloved.
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