Liebstod

"The last shall be first." ~Jesus

Tonight before you go to sleep,
sing a love song to your enemy.

Send it out on tremors of the moon.
Forget what is possible -

that's been done.
Imagine some uncreated goodness.

Touch it here, under your breastbone,
where sighs end and light

is born from not wanting.
Silence has a flavor like musk,

communion between breath-rise,
breath-fall, where prophecies

and scriptures are stored
before they are spoken.

Assume that you only have one chance
to enter the beauty of the hopeless,

that love is eternal perishing,
that this is your final exhalation.