Universe with
your pleasured consumption
of infinity
of all the breaths
that I have taken
all the words
that I have spoken
both written
and in song
the volume of Love
I have given,
will I be
a portion
of your meal
possibly a nibble
of your dessert
or will I be
discarded with
the crumbs?
Or am I a tiny
speck of sand
like our Earth
is to the Milky Way
as it is
then to you
sieved
through as in
a medieval
glass time piece
then turned over
to be re-sieved
time and time again
while you
savor the sweetness
of infinity?
