I’ve wandered to the point of tears
and lost myself in the loosened flaps
of my soul.
Like a prayer, I’ve encircled the moon line
of my soul’s dauntless halo—
The lowly geometry of my abominable self
seeking to measure its most spacious girth
And finding my arms short,
shy of propitious hold
thus, I stood there
and waited on the halo,
like a huge and eternal smoke-ring
to fall over me.