The Lesser Hevajra Tantra

The Doppler effect
of your memory:
afar
and coming
nearby
and going.
In the alleys
of your body
I search for your name.
To petrify it
in the interstices
of my thought:
The memory of
a fragrance
in a perfumery.

You are the fruit
in my head:
brittle pomegranate
two halves of a whole:
Taste of mineral
Taste of blue water
not on the plate
not on the tongue
but in my head
the fruit
becoming real.

The hypothesis of desire:
To begin with
there is desire:
in the end
the body comes
to be.

The vicious cycle:
Your body
made of my desire
my body
the cage
of your body.

I recoiled
and went in search of me.

A piece of moon
Uncut, glitters and waits
The winds blow over it for eons
And smoothen the edges
The living waters caress it with a million liquid fingers
For another eon

Perplexed wild beasts
Ponder over this gleaming piece of unearthly rock
And breathe on it their wild scents

A journeyer, the first of his ilk,
sees this little piece of rocky ivory
In his paths across the forests

He divines the first tool in it
His progeny after him,
Forges the fire and the wheel
Using this piece of moon rock

Years go by
The sun sets a million times
And the moon rises between the branches of trees

I find the moon rock, glittering
And awaiting for nothing, or for me.
A perfection of the labours of
Wind, rain, beast, and man
An heirloom of unknown ancestors
From a million years ago

I kiss it with my lips
And it becomes you.