THE CLOSET MYSTIC

I sing and I dance,

in rhythm and time,

with the universe,

its subtle energies,

the macrocosmic,

and sublime.

a twelve-colored palette,

the zodiacal dresser —

planetary ornaments,

adorned by the celestial — 

if mimicry is the greatest form of flattery,

then I shapeshift by the day,

out of adoration 

for all of creation.

Positive and negative,

yin, and yang,

I danced, I drank,

I cried, I sang —

I’ll look back on this life

with nary a pang,

of regret nor guilt,

unpierced by their fangs–

But oh how I will

sink deeply my teeth

into love and joy 

barbed fruits, so sweet

too great 

is the temptation of sensation

I want to feel it all

caressed by heavenly angels

and beaten by the depths

and its resident abominations

squeeze my heart like a sponge.

when I go,

Let there be nothing left to give.

take every drop 

I’ll bleed onto the canvas of this life

In the medicinal bloodletting 

of the sickness of being alive 

When the dusk of this life 

Is at last here,

Let it be known that nothing was spared,

not a drop of sweat, not a single tear.

May the tick and leech

Of my mortality

suck my essence,

In the greatest display 

of our shared divinity,

Its luminescence.