FINGERS HOLD

I gain understanding,
Between my fingers hold
Not much of my memory
Eloped thy consciousness
Not much I gain
In thy bidding,
The game of existence.
A chance I was
A chance I remain
No more letters
Now, guide my consonants
Nor any vowels
Convolute my tongue.
I gain understanding,
Seeing thee, from afar.
No more lust, or
Any begging urge
Fills my bowl-curve.
I crack thy vastness
With a pinch, and
I see the expanse
Between my fingers hold