Christina clouds: Christina clouds the clods of dark contradiction, knotty and ennetted. Christina closes: Christina closes the cleaving mist murking mystery, fogging my flesh.
Clouds clip and cleanse Sinai, the hues in Horeb, and She hoists the horn shedding blood in rainbows. Clouds clear and claim the revelation, opening original orgasm and generation, and my body joins in joy.
Within the cloud, the closure of revelation is the opening, and Christina opens absolutely: she opens gift and hospitality, a flesh of faith inhabiting Godhead and Trinity.
In my fogging flesh, persistent paradox, the intersection between She and unknowing. I know and now my body, and Flesh unveils and veils revelation, the continual incarnation of Christ-Christina.