do you know what it takes

for the eighth limb of yoga

to raise its hand?

straight as a spine, long as

lifetimes at hand dragged

across the ground?

those sopping sounds of lips

that

forgive departed breath.

the outline of the eighth limb

draws itself into the ground,

foundational as the sky...

it's there we'll make home

my love.

where our irises will spread

in impossible recognition,

the interpenetration of the seer

seen.

love of all my lives~