radical

there are no tethers now
to draw me back
to you,
to the pleasures
of this skin,
to the notes you write,
to the songs you sing
in the name of love,
to the sheer negligee of comfort
that old ways bring,

there are no walls now
to be whitewashed or razed,
or doors to be anointed
in the name of devotion,
no masks to don and flaunt,
in the name of beauty and play,
and no emotions to be crocheted
into works of art,
there are no ripples
that skirt the surface of things,
in the name of stillness,

there is only freedom
that spouts
from the fount of darkness,
where there is no thirst
or hunger,
only that one call
I must heed,
to go home,
now.