Poem: How To Meet Your Body

hold the door
and I will come through
lower the welcome mat
of your expectations,
and shower me in bouquets
of fragrant adoration, devotion infused
prostrate your ego at my feet
where he serves best,
I will lay my hand in benediction
upon his thousand heads
and cast out from each
legions of doubt
inferiority
vanity
false humility
apathy
despondency
and all manners of inflations, deflations
inflagrancies and defenses

leaving you empty
thought—less
care—less
air—less
aim—less
bound—less
leaving you perfect
as a serene vessel to display my pearls,
a spotless screen to hang my sword,
a virgin shrine to house my wholiness.

just hold the door open
and I will come through.