Held

Wherein Buddhism, erotica and my achy heart collide.

We are lying in the midnight forests
Long after we should be home
If we're not careful
We'll miss the train taking us
To tomorrow
Back to our little commutes
To the haunting of coffee shops
To drinking gossip in Manning

He holds me though
So now in this midnight forest
Past the lusts of flesh
Past the lusts of speech and knowing
We hold each other
And all I can imagine
Is a dust mote hovering in warm sunlight
I am not alive nor am I dead
Anatta, Anatta, Anatta