Can I demand
joy
of the universe?
Can I imagine
myself
into an ecstasy?
Can I say that
this is not perfect?
Can I lie about God?
Can you look me in the eye
and tell me I don’t know
happiness when I see it?
I see it.
I am not afraid of it now.
Can I be unfraid long enough
to take it, hold it close,
deathless,
until I lose myself inside?

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