CALL ME MAGGIE

When tears begin to flow in the moment of an ecstatic joy, I find an awareness of just how much the body–with all its pains and perturbations–is the necessary crossroads of possible Transcendenz. The feel of my gut contacting, my breath catching, tears falling down hot cheeks to quivering lips, and the touch of my beloved who calls me back to now/here, this man, this soul, the embodied cipher of the Good in my life, my buddy-friend-guy, my Christopher.