****

I see my beauty in you.

I become a mirror that cannot
close its eyes to your longing.

My eyes wet with yours in early light.
My mind every moment giving birth, always
conceiving, always in the ninth month,

always the come-point.

How do I stand this?

We become these words we say,
a wailing sound moving out into the air.
These thousands of worlds that rise from nowhere,
how does your face contain them?

I'm a fly in your honey,
then closer a moth caught in
flame's allure, then

empty sky stretched out in homage...

~Rumi