Does the cosmic space, we dissolve into, taste of us then?

For our part, when we feel, we evaporate; ah, we
breathe ourselves out and away; with each new heartfire
we give off a fainter scent. True, someone may tell us:
you're in my blood, this room, Spring itself
is filled with you... To what end? He can't hold us,
we vanish within him and around him.

The Second Elegy, Duino Elegies, Rainer Maria Rilke