Parading

Make my dreams poems

into the wind. Rich fresh wine

Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,

And I, Shahid, only am escaped to tell thee—

Each we are priests

& yet the earth is divinity, the sky is divinity

I feel like a girl in heaven,

but when I became a man I put away

Now I’ve always been the kind of person that doesn’t like to trespass

He wants to wake