Separation

.....if i could only separate myself from myself,
she used to whisper,
i heard it through the walls;
.....if only i could separate myself from myself,
.....sins of the flesh corrupt
.....the holiest of souls,
.....sins of the flesh fester
.....all of the good that is within
i listened to her whispers
night after night after night after
the sun would go down
.....the soul, not the body;
.....the spirit, not the flesh;
.....the immaterial is the matter,
.....is all that matters;
.....the material part of me should not be the part of me,
whispers that went on for days,
that seemed like months,
that seemed like years,
until she succeeded.
one night a wail took the place
of the whispers,
shook the place
where the whispers used to strip
in the dark;
i heard the separation,
i heard the desperation
in her voice;
the spirit went free
from
the body corrupted.

and now she visits and whispers
something different;
there is no speak of holy,
only unwhole;
there is no hint of peace,
only of a piece mislaid;
she seems now to be missing
more than ever before;
she still lusts, but has no mouth
she still hates, but has no hands
she still burns, but cannot burn
she still hurts, but feels no pain;
she is only separated
from the sins of her flesh,
which she loved deeply;
she is only apart
from the baseness of her body,
which satisfied her spirit;
she is simply
corrupt,
with nothing left to blame.--mjh