I felt the totality of nothing
and it provoked utter elation
as all that was born of sensation
was inversed to none, nothing, one.

It feels nothing beneath or above,
Neither beside of me, no way
left nor right nor wrong.

As aeons unfelt
allowed anesthesia
to grip me, held wight
by its dissociative thrall.

I have braved the depths
of eternity, delved into spaceless
infinity, submerged in its chaotic bliss.

I dared to immerse myself in it.
Low and behold, the M-hole.

The tension,
did you feel it too?
Pulling you-to-me,
or was it metoyou?
One moment
an arms length       away
The next,
nospacebetween

Breathless begins to feel
good

A spaceless canvas of a beautiful dream
Spaces to see and spaces to dream
Myriad and countless in thousands they seem;
Distanced thoughts of an uncertain kind..
The swift strokes of a finer self
A breast of pain and the womb of death..
The Rampant search of a timeless man,
The Mystique brilliance of a madder dream..
Clawing to lose a searchless path
The Maya of me and the Maya of death
Spaces and spaces myriad they seem

To stand alone and To view apart
An un-poisoned brightness of a fewer whole
froth-less waves of a mid-life's depth
kindled flames, a rocking boat
Spaces and spaces to me they seem

loss
and rainbows where two edges meet
orchestras of cellos (purposely out of tune)
shallow gasps manifested in rest notes between the spaces of off-key melodies
mosquito bites and your suggestion that my blood must be sweetest but I can't take you as a compliment;
this is not a time for threats, my darling, nor is it a time for deaths. it is not a time for spaceless thoughts nor for confessions with political motives under white garments of smiles and spices and seductive entices

the breath gets deeper even if only for a moment and then the gasp returns:
     the window blinds my glasses
      the windows blind the masses
       the windowblinds conceal the sun from me which hides my sanity and peace behind the instruments and their voices but it is probably to be found in the rests where the bars meet each other at the edges, where the silences collide and burn as substances react to oxygen and oxidized carbon and I don't feel god and that is startling,

it is starting to sound like a long bar of rest notes
or a mind which deciphers like stars out of their constellations
                                                       out of their occupations
                                                       out of their spheres
                                         like stars unaligned
                                         like lies out of signs in the open blinding sun shining minds sparkling like water after a chemical synthetic process (like most of our bodies) and my condescending opinions on all who give in to fabrications and useless surgeries and drugs to feel
or to stop feeling, or to reverse the effects of
our sadness our misery our traumas and dramas
without seeing them face to face, eye to eye, because to turn around blindly is
so. much. easier.

This is real
This is true
I cut, reform, reshape for you
And though it hurts
With penknife sting
I hope one day
You'll accept this ring.

So trust me baby
Though I cause a fuss
I’ll work on past it
For the sake of us.

Lace my pain with percussive cussing
Swear care no matter how you fare
Taking turns, till, we in turn fail
End nearing, gasp through by breadth of hair.

So hold no breaths
And cry no tears
We’ll be there soon
Speak, breathe, forget your fears.

It's true our future’s cloudy
We're over 8 by 8 by 100 miles away
I daily **** up as you tuck in
Pledging, “Rest, I don’t jest figure eights.”

Numbers don’t matter.

And my senses, they’re surely wrong.

So why hold both eyes on you?
And ask the same for me, just as long?
It’s so we both go strain blind
Bind souls and minds together
Splatter glue hastily agreeing to this eternal song
Float handheld in this spaceless place
Disintegrating all the walls that fall upon us.

… Or those we need to walk through.

There, in fantasy, easily we go
Each kiss a taste of the love we share
That we only alone in our nakedness wear
It's clear I would put nothing on or over you
Or dare seek some other exchange
Because without this arrangement
There'd be nothing
Besides empty, pitted pangs.

Wild rose

within a windowless, fire-lit night
flickering angels of the holy moment
swarming over top of my bed
swallowing my soulful thoughtless form
suspending my forlorn figure across the staggering skyway & stretching flesh thin as film across cloudless expanses

A riotous, monumental movement in time
known only in it's infinite form, the destructive creator, by the wholly most defeated souls
-those who seek the warm glowing eternal dawn of the unobtainable realm, the spaceless expanse of godly bliss
those who go mad in their thoughts and weep for misery they cannot detect but which looms, omnipresent, as a deranged creature of scavenged bones and pale white memories