You are the Sun

An empty cache of light

feasting, engorging on itself,

you are a scintillation of a wave-length

compressed to an empty point

and an empty point and an empty point

agglomerated into the dense and

beautiful you.

But you are not empty in my eyes:

your insolation feeds me.

You are the sun.

You are a quantum trick:

you are a goddess

to make disbelievers question their
certainties.

I am Paul of Tarsus
on the road to Damascus.
I am Jesus

before you. You are Horus,

you are all that ever was

or will be

to me.

You are the sun.