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She fed me spoons of poetry
tastes of Rumi and Attar
we imagined being drunk in Hafiz tavern
while we were sitting in a bar
We felt a thousand forms of Love, that night
but to become God’s Lover,
takes so much more
than a nibble and a bite
to become that
formless form, of Love
to receive a kiss
from that beautiful,
faceless face
that kiss
from beyond form
can be given only
by grace