The soul demands constriction --
  The knotted cord
Biting epiphanies into the tender flesh.

Kind-eyed angels holding irons
  Fire-bright --
  From the depths of God's own bosom --
Press close to us---

Teresa did not mention how
The golden dart
Had flickers licking from a slender head.

The spirit is willing.
But the flesh? Perhaps--
Too strong.