There is a South Indian story about soap.
Soap is the dirt we buy. We introduce it to the dirt we have, and the two specks of dirt are so glad to see each other they come out and mix!

They swim together in the warm pleasurable water and, at just the right moment, the washer lifts the cloth of our true being free of both soap and dirt.

Mystical poetry and other practices may function this way, as soap that dances with what disturbs our clarity.

Then at some moment they drop away and leave us clean, ready to be worn again.

 

Rumi