He came close, kissclose, naked and transformed.

His body lit, seemed so, from within. No

Priest nor poet now but thin—thank sorrow—

Man. Around his fleshglow fell shadows swarmed.

Then he did this: rocked. Rude. Like a ship stormed.

And pointed, one hand high, the other low,

At himself. Heart and loins. Pure pity. Though

In such selflight looked at once harmed, unharmed.

O, and was silent, not: not to say but be

He came a—watch!—word, what someone—who?—spoke.

Wrote? A one-word book to read, ever. See:

Skin, bones (scored, skewered) shine outloud: We broke

Down, then out in praise. Now keep a mystery

Bodied forth. Have, give us. And then I woke.