The Creation of Desire

Suppose there was an eighth day
after God had rested, when he retained some vigor
and without knowing it, out of sheer boredom,
he dreamt of the lascivious:
thought of rumps and necks
and breasts releasing such energy
that the sun in the heavens grew jealous.
Suppose God after rinsing his great shoulders
and shaking his head, said there must be
something beyond me, some wild strength
in matter that rises, swells like the surf,
so that the heart bends in ecstasy,
something that will make the flesh blossom
vibrate, seethe unequivocally, yes
some yearning, deepening in man
so he is pulled out of himself, out of
the thousand threads that hold him fast,
so every fiber of his body
will whinny and shimmer and birth,
something that will lure him back to me
among the wet grasses and
spongy tussocks, some booming
in his breast, some pulsing and thudding
such that he will praise in unrelenting
hallooing, so that he will razzle
the feather of laughter, and gorge on pleasure,
he will detect it everywhere, even in the shadow’s
splatter, so audacious will he be with
delirium in each nanosecond of happiness he will
speak in proclamations and so on the eighth day God
invented desire out of the sound of rain
and a man and woman running a bit,
out of lightflecks and spores and
bejangled roots and riffled leaves and in the brightest day alive
henceforth desire came.