Bliss

Bliss
In this sacred union
I wave at you.
I welcome you
into this ritual.

And I have to reconcile
with the fact that,
somehow, I found you.

Are we two pieces of the same puzzle?
We might not be,
but now I can say with most confidence:
I see you.

What a rare piece you are.
Stars made into flesh,
flesh made into thoughts,
thoughts made into words,
words bursting into light.

The room becomes a void.
A black hole,
‘cause this light
we’ve crafted
we cannot escape.

Yet again,
the puzzle pieces
become shapeless.

— Diana