For when we are desire, we are:
an accomplice to the soul
in a inner screenplay reading.
We are a protagonist to self-consciousness,
that learns by teaching.
We are seeds in the mind,
rooting and sprouting towards intimate disclosures.
We are a multi-sensating replicator
for spirit bounding into lifetime roles.
Desire is a better teacher
than illness, failure, or tragedy.
Desire can be the godfather
behind all of our dramas.
Desire has franchised religion
for a percentage of all of the emotional action.
Desire may be an invitational viscosity
to that which has been formless.
Where we, left to normal vices, are entertained,
desire is intrataining.
For when we are desire first hand,
latent is this reclusive truth,
yet mystical the bond.
The ceaselessly sinuous serpent
of self-recognition is molting
the sensory skin of desire’s ever-advance . . .