Tantric confessions

I suppose I allow my mind to dwell too much on you,

What can I do? It has become the habit of all my senses.

I have sat in meditation, watching what happens to me

As I remember you. As my chest swells with prana

And my heart explodes from the compressions of my belly.

A light explodes from the yoni sthan and into my brain

Spewing some subtle elixir of immortality.

And it comes from you

Whose breast I press against my skin.
Who is joined with me at all the points,

The lakes and lotuses and whirling wheels

That are the markers of my journey

Along roads I have cultivated and cared for,

Along  the stem I have climbed laboriously

From roots fed by the subtle elixir of immortality

you poured on a slumbering seed.

I breathed you in.

I don’t know whether I can breathe you out,

I breathed you in and you stayed.

We shared breath.

Breath that was blessed with the Divine Name.

You first penetrated my body and mind

And then gave laborious birth to this something

that I dare not call love.

In pessimism, let us call it a deformed child,

The bastard child of rasabhasa,

Like the love of parakeets or panda bears.

Your indifference now

Joined to my helpless stubbornness

is merely a pressure cooker

Building to yet newer explosions of this obscure

Mixture of pleasure and pain,

both embraced and despaired of simultaneously.

I would that I could turn my mind back to

That Radha and Krishna that are somewhere outside

But I cannot.

I must see the Divine Couple in the only love I know.

Are you God? Can you be God?

Can I make you God if I want?

Is the flowering of the thousand petaled lotus

Meant to reveal you alone or the Divine Couple?

Or is it pointless to differentiate?