Loosen

your form obscures your content
to serve and protect
the glory that blinds below.
still a structualist must plough,
i thought.
your visceral syntax is an elegant braille
that dances my fingers
across fringes that shadow
bright profundities,
across esoteric portals
that lap mountains into oceans,
through strands that slip
to avoid counting
and give the impression of fur
(but i lie; mimesis only chases you),
around the black beads that shine
wet with words' aid.
they are danced,
my fingers dance,
past the silken antechamber
into a frantic waltz with you.
but this, this,
this is no
solitary reception.
your text consumes
my reader,
because with shut eyes
i only feign blindness
to loosen the glory.
but it loosens me.
to see while not
seeing,
the grammar
of comprehension
subdued by a creed
of being.
your syntax is no barrier,
a prelude and a path
that demands faith
of the blind variety.
see how easy it is to be blind with you?
not the logic of unveiling, unlocking, ploughing
plunging, piercing,
syntax slams syntax.
i see, i only see,
projected
by form,
my reflection already
across.
No prying, no knocking.
eyes closed, faith streaming,
i leap,
i love,
i am.
you are, you love, we see.