My body is the most finite thing I have
and yet I use it to reach for something infinite.
Through the veil, everything is softened.
My breath warms the fabric,
makes it cling to my lips,
while I sprawl against this threshold,
trying to feel my way toward eternity
with fingertips that can only hold things
for a little while.
I want to touch in a way that lasts beyond touching.
I want sensation that outlives the body that feels it.
I want to use this flesh,
this temporary and aching thing,
to grasp at something that doesn't break,
something that continues
even after my hands stop.
The veil obscures.
The glass separates.
Sprawled and searching,
using the only tools I have,
skin, breath, and hunger,
to find eternity in touches that fade,
something that lasts in a body that won't.
The flower blooms on the other side.
The veil clings to my face.
Finite reaching for forever,
flesh trying to hold
what was never meant to be held,
but I'm trying with every nerve,
I'm trying.
Mizuyokaii, 2026
