Earth tastes of marrow in your bones.
Wind is in love with your breath.
Ocean longs to drown in one
of your teardrops.
Sky seeks a hiding place
in the hollow of an atom
in your finger bone.
Gazing in your eye,
the Sun remembers home,
Moon drinks your luminous
nectar from pituitary grail...
The one who designed this garment
made no copy, weaving
from memory these star paths
and comet trails into your
sacred body.
Why not wear it
in royal leisure?
Why not let clusters
of galaxies slip into your loose
and shimmering veils,
then dance?

Art by Mahmoud Farschian