~Within the within~
The drop of water never lands as landing is not law. Pools of silence wash ashore, stroking the restless sands with unyielding ease. The sound of grains shimmer like golden hail sparkling in tremors, flashing in and out another. The silence absorbs within the state of saturation; she sits in her mystery acquiring knowledge.
The within the within...
If you meet her, she will undress you, behead you, disembody you until you are all that lives. The-within-the-within takes you deeper than within. You know you are near her when you have lost your name. You know you have entered her when you never stop entering her. The drip drops deeper into her infinite hands. Your mind and body have lost their shame. You are stripped to the culmination of the undoing, for no harm can be done unto you. The drop drips soundlessly as the name has not arrived. Curls of fascination spiral like smoke into the rich opaque night-spinning upward, heralding the nameless face of your last promulgation. You have lost yourself in the eternal joy of antiquity. Come messenger, come friends, come back to where life begins. You will find your name cupped within the hands of the virgin. She has registered your identity as that of loving the sacred game of humanity.
The drop of water never lands as landing is not law. Pools of silence wash ashore, stroking the restless sands with unyielding ease. The sound of grains shimmer like golden hail sparkling in tremors, flashing in and out another. The silence absorbs within the state of saturation; she sits in her mystery acquiring knowledge.
The within the within...
If you meet her, she will undress you, behead you, disembody you until you are all that lives. The-within-the-within takes you deeper than within. You know you are near her when you have lost your name. You know you have entered her when you never stop entering her. The drip drops deeper into her infinite hands. Your mind and body have lost their shame. You are stripped to the culmination of the undoing, for no harm can be done unto you. The drop drips soundlessly as the name has not arrived. Curls of fascination spiral like smoke into the rich opaque night-spinning upward, heralding the nameless face of your last promulgation. You have lost yourself in the eternal joy of antiquity. Come messenger, come friends, come back to where life begins. You will find your name cupped within the hands of the virgin. She has registered your identity as that of loving the sacred game of humanity.
