Between darkness and light,
a tear...
Between silence and song,
a breath...
From the earth to the sky
my spine is hollow,
waiting to be filled
like a butterfly's tongue
that yearns
for the honeysuckle's sap.
Yet I would be filled
from the blackest soil
to the star of emptiness
not with the food of flowers
but with your lightning,
O Shambo, Lord
of sweet annihilation.