transcription (attempt)

Ah, love--
Ink flows to you like water.
Running down to low places--resting there--
Feeding soil--carving canyons--
Making depths, as plunging for the Great Deep--
And reaching--rising--through vapor and fish--
To heights, as to the Great Height.
You are wrapped around me like paper--and wind--
And Gravity--
And Will--
Run a pen to all extremities,
And half--or more--of all this--force--
Is lost along.
But only to conciousness.