Pousse-Cafe

Every atom of your body is mine.
Every molecule of me is yours.
We digest each another.
Sustained by what consumes us, we are food.
This meal ended before there was light,
before leaves, mold, microbes, wings and rain,
when every creature was dissolved
in the juice of silence.
Creation is only a liqueur.
Now I see through candle flames a swirl
of galaxies that were to be your eyes
until the Source got intoxicated with making you.
Let us have our pousse-cafe and then
go dancing in the belly of the Goddess.