Invisible Me

in the sense that desire may be sweet
but the one–or the other–is the bitter
that stirs and shapes and eventually scatters every molecule
so thin–one here, one there, the equator, a pole–north–south–
till the desire loses form

Ah, but losing form does not mean its existence is snuffed
like a candle
leaving charred
smells of what once was

No, when desire meets bitter and scatters
it merely becomes invisible

Freedom is seeing the unseen
caressing the formless desire
and simply knowing

This is who I am

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