Krishna the blue mystery God

Ah krishna of the crystals
What do I say to you in this modern suberbic poem so distant from the blessed  mouth they came from.
Can we handle your raw distant state
No religion attached to heavens gate
Free to be worshipped by the whole wide world as the people's arms open wide their praise.
If I fall too far do you have angels of light in your heaven to catch this extra trimming for your celebrations.
Are you the owner of the blue dreams of spirit worlds and psychic meanings?
Why are you so easy to love beyond borders of poetic language? And then forget for a thousand other God's with less beauty and masculinity than a God was ever written.
Can I be as flowery and perfect as you.
Who was that blue many armed sea women who threw my mind like a tiny atom through the faces of clocks written on this body and that high dimensional reality I wished I'd see beyond the hold of space that brought me straight back home with an abrupt ending dream.
Maybe even orgasming into the explosion of grace could have been my case. Where the unicorns and mermaids live and stars can be plucked like berries and fill my mind with a special kind of social peace.
But I should keep in line, and check myself clean cos even my Gods worries about the ripple effect of my confused expression of blasphemy flicked like a bean or praised beyond worded boundaries seems in need of update, sept for the obvious danger avoidance reflex kicking my heart back into place, that it wasn't your powerful arms of two but my love for Gus (my almost husband of decade plus over age) that I compared orgasm to them without even a twitching sexual thought of you.
I'm I therefore innocent in your eyes despite my playful discretions.
They say there are many routes to heaven.
How many glorious people are there there softly whispering or cheering their joyful calm prayers for the betterment of love and light while we grasp at edible drawers and drinking through delicate paper straws and thinking through life with powerful thoughts. I guess my path to heaven roams like a pilgrimage that never seems to end, but I forgive you for not taking me with you Mr explosion.
Yet I am shocked still a little by this realisation and I'm sparked too sometimes, just that mine don't have that much of an impact.