No submission

I have no intention
of commending my soul
to you
or any of your servants:
not the breath of fire
the watcher on the tower
or the keeper
at the gate.

When I go
I shall bring her with me
wrapped in swaddling clothes.
Together we shall mount
up as on eagle's wings
as one
we will cross the thin veil
into the land of immaculate plenty.

Wiley conniver that you are,
trying to trick me
into believing your goodness.
I know you want me
only for yourself and your
appetites. You think you can
separate us. You think we are
yours for the asking.

Beware the heart of a woman.
Beware the radiant mother of all.
Beware the power of pure love
that can never be divined by one
who seeks only to be loved
and not to be
Love.