I am not this. Your beauty closes my eyes, and I am falling into that.
You cut the umbilical with this love
that has been with me since birth.
My mother saw your mountain reflected in my face, you that lift coverings, you that bring death.
We agreed on this before creation. I have been so hidden.
Ask my body who I am. It says, Solid ground. Ask my soul. Dizzy as the wind. Neither. I stand here facing Shams Tabriz.