Stir The Pot (taste the life)

With each veil, whether opaque or transparent
There you are, such that the phenomenon
Of ‘behind’ a veil takes on a new slant.
You’ve redefined it for me in the juxtapositions
You carry, heavily, awkwardly, and some tenderly.

For ‘behind’ becomes ‘out in front,’ the evening drunkenness
Marries with the sober mess of another day
Creating one breathtaking yet somber step
In the choreography of this life, the life
You have surreptitiously invited me to witness.

Which of these veils lay, in their transparency,
Across your heart? How do you know
Your own heart when that which obscures lends
Its fashioning to nearly every breath you take?
What, in your own private ken, can take your breath away?

Why not let it be so even here, even now.
Regardless of what it could bring, what could
Be said of you, of the other. Melt, like the snows,
That brick of larder sheltered in the walk-in
Of the kitchen of your existence. Taste.

What is here. Taste. Join me in the life that is yours.
Join me in taking in the smells, the fragrances.
Yes, you may suffer immunity from those. Walk
Anew into your own life through my eyes,
Landing there in a freshness that is Timeless.

May these words beckon to you in the way
Your touch has softened something in me,
Even in your withholding. For touch is beyond
Flesh, includes flesh, is the origins of flesh,
Something more than the senses that sees, hears, and listens yet.

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