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 Nov 2012 Jene'e Patitucci
Rumi
The moon has become a dancer
at this festival of love.
This dance of light,

This sacred blessing,
This divine love,
beckons us
to a world beyond
only lovers can see
with their eyes of fiery passion.

They are the chosen ones
who have surrendered.
Once they were particles of light
now they are the radiant sun.

They have left behind
the world of deceitful games.
They are the privileged lovers
who create a new world
with their eyes of fiery passion.
Heart pounding, like a drum beating heavily inside.
Head spinning, like looking over a mountain edge.
Stomach turning, like you've just eaten bad fish.
Panting, like you've just ran to the edge of the earth and back.
Tiredness, like you've been awake for days.
Nightmares, flooding your dreams like watching memories on video.
Weakness, like you've fallen from the sky onto your knees.
Dizziness, like you're walking through the Sahara Desert.
Boiling temperature, like you're laying under the Death Valley sun.
Anxiety, like you've gone crazy and can't escape a tiny, tiny cell.

— The End —