"I will wound you for free."
"But I want to pay for it."
"This will cost you everything."
"I have already given that."
"Then give me your silence,"
So I renounced the mind and dove
into the space between thoughts,
where I swam all night among moonbeams
with creatures who glowed with namelessness.
Just before dawn, Love severed off my head
with a scimitar of sweetness:
wave of stillness, empty mirage,
sword of the Prophet,
forever slicing One into Two
for the sake of devotion.
"Take that!" Love said.
"Thank you!" cried Bewilderment,
breaking the silence,
opening the wound again.