"on an l train to brooklyn"

I don’t know how to breathe

in this present of
esophagus tightening
I scratch
at the surface of self
all mire
no shinean anxious twisting today
a darkness blooming -
is He here?
Is He now?
Can He use this, too for glories
Unspeakable?
Yes and He will,
Yes and He will.
but joy in the process-
I ache for some joy
in this process.
the train hums
the roots of Him dive
deeper still
in this darkness, a great Light.