You are everything. There isn't anywhere I can think
and imagine to go where you won't be.
Inescapable. Even when I imagine I've killed you,
I curse the name given to you. There I see you
in the profane words, in the rajas of violence.
Where can I go? What shape
can I take to hide from you?

I quiver on the edge of Love and Hate,
yearning with pain and in vain
for mercy forgot me and relief
is a distant mirage in an endless desert.

I grow to love the shiny polish
from grains of abrasive sand.
I wait through a coarse, dry world
for cool deluge transforming
in a blink everything from sand to sage,
and slowly back again.
Who can do this? Who
can harness a power
perceived in between
the friction of fire and air?