I clothe myself with nudity before Her ever shining eyes,
futile attempt to discard the mantle hanging leaden over my shoulders,
its rough texture worn smooth with labor and grime,
I hide myself behind transparent nothing,
fully awake and fully aware in the unveiled intensity of Her unyielding gaze.
Like ice beneath the flame,
the vestiges of emotion and strength and desire are shorn away,
running in rivulets to pool along my bare feet,
and to reflect once again those shining, terrible eyes
in small pools of disconnection puddling smooth in the windless afternoon.
It this all there is?
my beard ruffles and dances in Her hot breath,
before the unending stream of command and demand that pour from Her mind
as an uniterruptable torrent,
silent and true and strong against hope or reason or darkness.
I bathe in that current against my will,
for what is will before Her face?
I am neither tossed nor pushed along the streamlinee,
but rather pulled ever closer to Her embrace,
ever closer but always apart.
I am empty and blown away,
an automaton marched by pulled strings
and unseen clockworks.
I would kneel or feint had I the choice.
I have waited her overlong,
and She comes now again,
angered that I have caused Her to turn Her head to find me.