Contact.
An ink-toned ebony night captures
doubt and shows my soul healing rapture.
Emerging now a winking lone star
lends arcane comfort to impregnate dark.
Light surges inwards and as I lie
prostrate mystic awe embraces my mind.
Losing time\'s conscious track, way
past mourning\'s grasp I fall up into space.
Thru\' heaven\'s hole I taste contact
and as wonder grows I digest the galaxy.
Now at one with equivocal cosmos
my myopic tears soak up focus and stop.
Grief can never console me but his
star reveals edict of lovers un-dying bliss.