Syntagma

What are we if not vessels?
To birth of emptiness,
Living to content infinity?
But to its end, are we ever whole?
If a finite number can’t measure wholeness,
Then to what degree is this vessel full?

What are we if not greed?
For if love among all is the greatest,
Then why do we have many?
Could it be that we are not made to love,
Rather to need?
Rather to want?
Beings perfectly wretched with inadequacy?

What are we if not whores?
To have and to own,
Others we satisfy.
To need and to want,
We bare naked.
A pleasure we guilt,
But a guilt we pleasure?

...