not possible to have a body that holds 
it all gracefully.
not possible to set it loose 
without it leaking out onto the floor.

my rapture burns a little and I am mopping
up ooze in the kitchen for the third time today. 

when I can really cry, or sing 
or feel the deep blush of love 
it is me worshipping and lamenting
the body:

thank you, thank you, yes, yes!

for this banquet, for this ecstasy. 

I cannot wait to be rid of it!