I Will Know Her When I See Her

A strange lover of the stars,
She is the fusion of the impossible,
With the math of the mind,
In toto-cosmic-makeover,
Her body; ever ripe as time,
Her personal politics the undressing,
A dreamer of the sleeping worlds,
I will worship unmade moons.

Oh this whisper to my inner ear,
Oh this music of God's wake,
It means a world that has won its war,
That harlot muse nurses seduction,
The building of what has lost,
What has but crashed on yesterdays,
I want her more than desire can furnish,
I want her like I want my shadow-self.

Some new currency to buy us back,
She will put flesh to this ache,
The petty dramas of these suicides,
No more to sulk upon this stage,
This chronic wasteland and its epic appetites,
Is what we mean when we find meaning,
Empty-eyed-angel come to carry me,
To this imperfect paradise.

I'll know her when I see her,
She'll be wearing strings of gods,
And put a hush to these busy wastelands,
Rework all dreams to better odds,
Her tongue in verse will sing new bibles,
Her love in sex will breed new races,
We'll live in the nothing of the moment,
And live past nights to morning's graces.