Zeno's Paradox (The Down)

I did lose my common view
             amidst the closeness of your down.
Slight and fine as faerie breath,
             between swadhistan and nabhi.

Not that cherished tuft tomentum,
             crowning crest of lotus-lips,
But that softness, in above-ness,
             diaphanous, in sparse array.

Though truly rapt to breathe so near
             your oodhious aigrette canopy,
And coax your sacred delta's dew,
             unconstrained, I'd sip the dew in full ecstatic reverence.
But at this site of downy wisp,
             a kiss would seem most true.

I think no thoughts, though think they me
             a raging serous centrifuge.
My kiss: A heedless, formless equus,
             lame as Ovid's lorem ipsum.

Rapt, and doubtless, (unrequited),
             half the distance could I fly.
Half again and half again in hubric contrapedal love,
             unconstrained, I knew my math was un-Pythagorean.
My common view cannot recur, like Oodh, you've cancelled lesser fragrance.
             Once a condor, now forsaken only by the code of doves.