My deepest desire is indescribable, for words would lay her dark-hole-pigeoned, bruised wings under skin. **My deepest desire sees no color, smokes no fire,** for she has no view for perception, no lungs to taste resin. **My deepest desire rests in the womb and drinks the Liquid sound of wisdom.** This writing does not speak of desire as the world understands it. What is being named here is something far more primordial—something that lives beneath personality, beneath longin