***
You fed on God, on His bones and silence
the tragedy is solemnly silent nonetheless
the breath is present and convulses you
as if it weren’t about an extraordinary thing
suddenly you have the countenance
of a goddess who has emerged from the past.
Almost all the lusts and all the usual satisfactions
put you to the test but something has broken,
but if it’s not breaking then it’s detachment;
you are no longer at the core of the things.
You’ll never be equal to what you do.
However nothing is any longer, nothing
looks any longer like what was before.
The vacuum is transfigured.
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