I have torn the books into raindrops in my starving madness. As I stand in the tattered drizzle, I am soaked in the beloved. Warm and dry in your mosque, how can you know why Latif dances in the sacred puddles.
lol...this one is def. totally Sufi. I love the imagery of the rain and being soaked in divine presence and sacred puddles... ripping up literary binds for the freedom of divine experience... I totally feel this one.
