THE CLOSET MYSTIC

Sun!

Moon!

Twin conspirators,

Grant me a coin!

The luminaries held in my palm

I flick her upwards

I kiss the Sun

I kiss the Moon

I watch as the coin

Flips

Flutters

Spins

Blindingly, in mid-air —

Gold and silver blur into one another

Is that quicksilver I see?

Or is it Platinum?

I fall to my knees in gratitude

They’ve granted me

a piece of intelligent infinity

What will I do with this gift?