Leiak, omnipresent vague pneuma-dancing spirit, ductile pious water of epiphany and extraordinary example, lives on the water with his parasitic chin in the Vernarthian epigram; he is seen with his jocular back, breaking the lines of the swamps between muscles and silhouettes. Before the First station..., primitive of the three remaining nights before reaching the volcano of Patmos, its deluge begins. "

It bathes in the Davidian, Alexandrian, and Vernarthian rains. A little touched he is seen and insubordinate in the astragali that he has gained in his allegories, squeezing his chest, exactly for the good of a wonderful Hellenistic city statue of the Dyticá, where he imbibed Vernarth's putti, adhering to the hydric spheres that fell over the ceilings of the heavens that Eros himself and his crush, which struck the heart axis of Medea, totally extracted from Zefian's quiver, constricted in Borker's nanotechnological sub-mythology. From the comedy of Attica and in the superb speeches of endo-adverbial satire, he stigmatized verbal changes of creation, superimposing them on tops of excesses carried by heavy drops inside some amphorae brought from the eastern sunset, tracking happiness that arrived on the western shores, waiting letters of sigh and loneliness stretched out on the thalamus full of stretch marks. So Leiak expanded, where everyone made fun of him being a satyr by essence, but being unaware of it. Perhaps as a unitary gesture of shadows when going to dawn, before having the best light that they put in figures or pirouettes, without disgracing him as a satirical minority in the Epicurean doctrine, he is inquiring a happy life through the intelligent search of innate pleasures, the ataraxia and in apocalyptic friendships with Zefian, Borker, and Kaitelka.

Borker did not intend to heal himself of trifles at all; it will be a habit to venerate the revelations against polytheism, to then cling to an interiority that points to corroded execration from the root to the top of the fallen tree, with force blinded by the blindness of the Automaton, as far as it is concerned. By itself, of identical significance in the background; but with so-called change that he tends to totally eliminate the last trait of personification of the divine. From this dilemma, the values will be spikes in his hands, sheaves in both, and what he envisions of Hellenism will be the property of nano-technology, submitting under the lens of time dividers that have never been pieces of rest under the Duoverse-Universe., the lens will be your Iridium and the microbes that govern us will be the atomic force, to discover them. What atomistic world will there be between Borker and Leiak, if in this nanoworld; The nanometer is one-billionth of a meter ?, What will be enough to start being tiny in this great epic, which is called Vernarth intra-spaces and inter-Verthians of the universal macrocosm, which will now approach the microcosm of human consciousness, and the laboratory of Epicurean affabilities in Ataraxias decreasing the passionate intensity of the Hypothalamus, and the supra desires that can alter the mental-corporal balance, strengthening in misery that they reach said balance, and finally happiness, which is a meta-plane of Epicurean convergence that runs after the lost. Ataraxia is, therefore, tranquility, serenity, and imperturbability analogous to Vernarth's soul, reason and feelings in his dislocated world, and the hemispheres of himself that will be rationalized in their slightest longitudinal measure, in what fits and in the precarious!

Passionate laboratories were magnetized every time Leiak walked on its extension, and his hands went beyond his fingers, touching the Constellation of Aorion, to indicate that the longitudinal metric of man is measured beyond the fingers of the Duoverse, where it appears the Extra-Cosmos in the proximal of a nano-scale is a submultiple of the conferred means of the Saint John the Apostle pattern. The scientific notation will be the safeguard of the magisterial scientist exponentiated brain; 10.1 mm = 10-3., the kilometer or km, is the opposite equivalent in what submultiples of the meter are called a micrometer: 1 μm = 10-6 m. In this scale we find bacteria, which constitute the main group of microbes, hence the name of the submultiple between observation scales of the macro and micro world of this being of Holographic Lux called Leiak, having the composition between this nanoscale, and the opposite of 1 μm = 10-6 m. projected onto a bacterium, which in turn is ten times larger than a viral body. Sizing enough to balance the biosphere that will surround the Automaton Mandragoron.
Leiak's world is an outpatient virtual laboratory, as it is valid in colloquial language, adhering to measures that differ by the conception of transliteration or decimal mathematical positioning. The letters and lines have been interpreted by Leiak, they are Vernarthian Parapsychologies that oscillate gaps of mismatch of billionths of wasted knowledge, in displays of ghostly reigns and in no-man's-land. This nanoscale makes us nano-poetize themes of ultra interference of the Epicurian decree, of tranquility, serenity, and imperturbability, with the meagerness that we know of the enlightened after a thousand moons writing under the stars:
"Woman when you touched my life with the grace of your fingers, I could see how the kind nights closed my eyes, caressing the entire Universe." This is undoubtedly Epicurean Nano Poetry, but the Author is Tagore "

The exponential oscillates in the parameter of the outstanding Astronomer of the divine verb and poetic thinking, in the most intimate and dynamic Hindu techno-language. Quantum mechanics here is the debit of the iconic remnant reached, by parameters not achieved below the average intelligence, providing lost data far from collecting and storing. Tagore's logic is nano-poetry, which balances billionths that are not achieved by occupying the Corporal Dytiká (poetic sunset) and the synchronic soul, rather the material simultaneity of the fifth element of will, emotional and objective desire, condensing into matter already conferred consciousness, in gaps in fit at all times, but linking it to her divinity as intelligence never before out of date; V.G. The Mashiach is always linked to the vertebral and communicational axon of the plasma nano-particles by grasping its infinite numinosity, making this scale it's one billionth, and being within the Eras that will be the largest average of the macrocosm, in the quantum itself of the Christian Era and in other Quantum worlds.

Strictly speaking, the molecules are angels without a will, but the dispensers are the consciousness of Leiak, which transfers hybrid consciousness, for purposes of regulating and shaping the ravings of intelligence and atheistic consciousness, and for purposes of the great remnant always present and active in the emergency. Spirituality of the Mashiach-revolutionized. The by-product will be Zefian's Tetra Sagita with its ergonomic tip, opening up doubts and tracing the future of a rewritten bible in the same character and fidelity, but with the omnipresent Mashiach of a Scientific Eucharist.

Leiak walked through minefields, and in some, he saw universes come out that exploded in livid colors, among them Vernarth, who had been recovering from malaria, and who helped him create a culture composed of a great artifice of immutability, for those who are close to his Greek spirit. Overwhelming those who lack the will, clarifying where the great art galleries of the world will be, not because of their current works but because of those they will have to exhibit? From the rushing philosophical delta, germs of dominance were trickling, distinguishing properties that did not germinate under his feet. Bread and water of the hundredfold fruit of all the lesser forces that resist on the thirty and nine with fever, more than the narrow borders to be discovered, in democracies that will prosper in the hands of kind tyrants, and not in the unitary Ecumene. Vernarth did not denationalize from his grass crops, he was Hetairoi more than all the commanders of Alexander the Great because his native country never sank next to him, he only prospered in centuries where he had to rise again silenced and prostrate oblivion.

The chaos of an absence accuses a majority of sadness that greets the Celtic Gauls for the axon of the anointed cosmos of the divine autarkic world. But not in seditious wars devoid of bread and water that does not support them, nor by papyrus did nets that do not contain them either, in the spiral retransform the land of all, as a plural work done here, by the Mandragoron Áullos Kósmos, intends. The male rectors will trust their works in the widespread Greek language, called koine (common). A language that writes has its own feet to write new divisions, and ordinal paragraphs to fulfill in proskínesis or obeisances in those who have golden knees or not! They will continue to make separate book stores or libraries for Filososfia or science sub-themes that will tackle the top of Profitis Ilias. For all large cities and nations, it will only be Leiak's legacy, of having large spaces for dialogues where no one can resist his man-made preaching, holographic rain forest, and times that not even in billionths will make him melt spaces of ignorance, diverge from the juxtaposed principle of unpopulated urban schools do not deserve.

Says Leiak: “Every time it is more intense to turn the dislocated nature of man, my literary idylls are at the end of everything with his genre works. Life and it's agitated think idyllic of removing the talus, which is not swayed in my chest by the Metelmi..., but by my breath of death! "

If I were to mindlessly meander the streets
That you told me were all in my thalamus, I
Would find the edge of Earth, devastated
And barren. Then I would contently sit on the
Brim and toss broken asphalt into the somber
Chasm and listen for echoes that remain absent.
I would welcome the silence into my
Lonesome and say, “Thank you for
Reminding me that this is all  my imagination.”

If I could pick the menu,
I'd choose a tasty appetizer of Hendrix pituitary,
& a huge salad covered with Joplin cortex.
Plant's gray matter for the main course,
sides of Jaggar & Morrison stems,
along with a bottle of Springsteen spinal fluid.
I'd definitely have to order
an ample sweet-portion
of Daltrey thalamus
& sprinkle it with some Cobain lobes.
A shot of John's cranium
with a nightcap of Townsend cerebellum
would surely hit the spot.

I have all the reasons to believe,
All the evidence to give,
That Faith of all after Eve,
Came to my soul to live,
To hold my hand to the wedding eve.

A women from  another mother,
Assumes her class for this poor thing,
Whose several proposals have yielded nothing,
Perharps for poor presentation,
And presumably doubts of my being.

The pics you sent me the other time,
I find my eyes gazing at them more often,
Whenever you call or I do,
Learns soul and body gets alert,
******* not to forget.

How you start a conversation,
Always with a calm noncholant voice,
Makes my thalamus restructure its pitch,
Just to make my vocals present a fair draft,
All in a bid to impress my one in a million.

That birthday surprise,
Left me mouth agape,
The concern and commitment   in your voice,
Have made me harden my stand,
And declare a love sentence .

The later promise,
To me equals a nightmare ,
Like a Christian to rapture tale,
My being awaits affirmation,
Of your mouth watering promises.

I love it when you say,
"Omi chonjo"
Its a reassurance,
That liberates my heart ,
From fear of losing its queen.

I knew it was you
the humble and the companionate
the inspired by love
sending a wave of appreciation
descending from the Thalamus
to the pigment of my Iris
Seeing you pass by
I hid my sorrows under my eyelids
You poked both eyes gently, 
My closed eyes, mine and their secrets  
Opening up to you, and I can feel
my tears falling down, one by one
like a flimsy leaf
gathering at the ******
street corners of a heart
that have no homes, not even
a room for a guest
or a ‘welcome’ mat

a deep voice, came from within
    saying to happiness
‘visitors are not welcome’
    
                    some of us are
content with the sadness
      because at least, the blues
               never departed,
                   since it first  
                     arrived

Heavy is Head and Heart
No crown weighs them down
Yet they sink at the bottom of an endless sea.
Cluttered by memories of past passes.
Of opportunity squandered because of fear.
Because of the past pain that lingers
Somewhere near the tear ducts and rooted in the thalamus.

Still sinking,
Filled with the tears of a thousand pains that were bottled up.
Stocked in the recesses of neural mass and cardiac muscle.
Little did Head and Heart know that by releasing what they had stored.
What they had carried
To these depths.
They could be free.

It would hurt
And that's what they knew.
So they sank,
Memories and pain dragging them further from the surface.
Further from
Another second chance at something.
Something real.
Something true.
But unwilling to feel briefly
And release
To be free.
They sank.
Further.

As if caught in a net of chain and concrete.
Their baggage sunk them
Quickly.
Faster than their past pains could stabbingly flash before their eyes.
Faster than a memory of a first kiss forgotten or misremembered.
Faster than the memory of the scent of wintergreen gum,
Wafting through their nostrils,
Coming of the lips
Of their high school crush who never knew.
Faster.
And faster.

And they reached bottom.
Head and Heart trapped
On the rocks.
Their own doing.
They struggle to no avail.
But you know what they say,
About rock bottom.
There's no place but up from here.
If they can only
Let go.

Please open seal
gently, the general
surgeon commands
his general army

No more hesitation:
The first incision
made at the
proper perforation

The code is embedded
deep in the thalamus
between -before- us:
A carrier pigeon
bringing his
message

He does not
stop to rest
on his way

They all approached the Colosso  from Apsila, from where the eleventh star began to make the quantum leap of conformation of twelfth aligned stars. The combat explorations in multiple routes showed the compliance of the identical Eddaphos or the sacred homeland of Patmos in the significant profile as a strategy by Eddaphs that seemed seas of prejudice and confusion of the farmhouses around which was not conquered by anyone, nor was anyone immolated. It was only the magnificence of the Colosso of Apsila that gave the saddles to empower itself from the detonation of atomic light, which was fired from Tire and Gaza on the riverside where today was the residence of Mardiath; Vernarth's lieutenant of the lights of the capital of Memphis, where he temporized areas that were worthy of an atrium of predilection to repopulate all the areas from where Persephone would sprinkle cinnabar for the Persian yokes, to compensate the Oracle of Siwa in the interstices of a god Hellenic Egyptian Zeus-Amun who would reside between his gums. When capturing the highlands and the lowlands, immediately joining the triangulation of the Beit Hamikdash temple and all the currents of the Euphrates, in the direction of Susiana where Vernarth was sitting on the gold horse, after dismounting from Alikantus, glimpsing luxuries and becoming of specters with the Manes Apsidas, congenializing before entering the Pasargada entrance parapsychology, since these succulent areas of gold managed to cross the Euphrates in parapsychology of annihilation, but when bilocating in the supply units insufficient flow, to divert the Attention from the stubborn Persians who still wanted to pursue their siege vows.

Possibilities of superior authorities remained in the infra predominance of their overexcites that encouraged them to deviate from their points of despotism to become from on high in the stream that shone by making propaganda of two ascars in the breadth of the plain, only leaving the cessation of first admission in front of Zefian and his four arrows with the Scythian Archers, in counterbalance to the contingents that were already in full risk of the target territory in the Eruv of Saint John the Apostle, which had demarcated the lines of pachyderm tracks in the frenzy of an oracle that sneaks in from teleportations of audio-sensory iconographies, discovering the mantle of Saint John where he would lead the garrison that would supply the majestic and triumphant portico of the Souls of Helleniká, taking possession of the paragon of quantum in the portico of Susa, from where shimmering looting of capital increased, helping to minorize the territories that would make it possible to aid the gates balance of the accesses of universal connection between Skalá and Susa, from where thousandths of a dorus would already begin to fly for a Macedonian king reference in the doors that would unite both geophysical zones, after attempts that make retentive in images of the struggles of the spectra to the see them, who then dissipated in advance from the cataclysm by convincing themselves of the eternal refuge where battles that had taken place between two rogues prevailed that never had to confront a conjured and assassinated sovereign, after an attempt to rebel in the Battle of Patmia, unable to avoid the recognition of a Satrap like Bessos like the horror of Artaxerxes.

All had been thrown into the possession where the light was present on the elytra of flying organisms, from where the imperceptibility of time and its aetoí or raptors were made free of some prey from the sky that was uncaused unable to support themselves, in means of the Salpinx and Shofar who heeded the voices of angelic *******. The tenors were stewed in stormy queens that dwelt in the mesosphere where Geburah resided for causes outlined in advance, attracting Hellenic claws that were actually a serpent-bearing Ophiuchus that was the thirteenth of the zodiacal sign of the dragon that was stratified in the Opioukos u Serpentarium opioids to settle that it was teleported by Captain Mardiath from Shots by the Wheel of Animals. The celestial groupings were constellated by lurching incontinence of their wills that were not able to advance and attempt what had already been lost. It was already the point of Aries or Vernal as the equinox was marked, from here with the twelve divisions of the zodiacal of Ophiuchus, where the astronomical limits that were in Vilorta were constellated, embracing the iron that held the thalamus of the plow at the helm of Vernarth, tri meaning supposed datas that could correspond to the limit of the quadrant of Aquarius with four new signs since the twelfth signs were distinguished in the wheels of the animals; being Apollo's oxen, having this spelling of the Dodecanese of Saint John after having toured the twelve churches in Turkey, where the collection of the stations would carry the Kouvalíthike se Vódia, "carried by the Oxen" leaving the precipice of the escarpment to Capricorn as the definitive wheel of the twelve divisions of the Dodecanese in the cardinals of the Shemash, making stations of Capricorn and Vóreios of Hyperborea with Wonthelimar, in the extreme north of this dawning night and of the projected equinox, which would be the tangent of the Sun through the celestial south returning again in the fused iconography of all the innkeepers that the astonished swords possessed in their assistances without being able to detach themselves from the reckless image of the scorpion or of an ***** that is illustrated by the ecliptic of the captains of each military squad. The league of fuss and perplexed reactions left them in the limen that became gaseous behind the ecliptic that transpolated the ends of the decision-makers, in these same with the ecstasy of the limits where each cycle appeared in its stunning sponsorships, related of the uncrossings of the bearer that made the cardinal points vary by the ecliptic of Notós de Borker and Dyticá de Leiak, leaving the dawn in the firmament below the mesosphere and the sunrise that was based on the thirteenth zodiacal abode of Ophiuchus, unraveling the gloss of the first postulate of light that was transferred from the unnameable transit of the Apocalypse's declaration. While everyone looked at each other and did not stop wondering when the Colosso of Apsila rose towards the ecliptic of precessional time where she herself detached herself, emerging in her imperceptible time, and carrying seas in the rivers, and rivers over the mountains where the serpentarium more than the sidereal opus that was distorted in the tertiary scale of Aurion, taking them to the Hebraic ladder of Judas Iscariot. The intertestamental analogy would throw the treatises between the Hellenes and Achaemenides and the Mashiach with his multi-consciousness in Judas Iscariot. In this instant of florilege of the heavenly palaces, it was summed up in the female that spread through the nets, hecatombs and afflictions, with crusts of arches that held the quiver from the claws of Beelzebub, which was not imperative for a Geburah who constrained himself to the tension of a god Íblis,  that if he asserted about the temptations of Judas destroying all the temples in the world and the post-captivity of intergenerational breeds, that they would go to the mercy of the host of fatality and inverted horror, that is, with the onslaught of pseudo-Christians who covered themselves with the mantle of the Ofiusco, creating outpourings of the flood that would extol severe genocides of the universe with the immature Apocalypse, which was protected in the ravages of the devastated territories with plagues and morbidities of septem saecula, which would be the execrable legacy of those who did not know that centuries would be born from these spoils of the escapes of the body by the body, only leaving bizarre souls that would reap the inverted step of the genocide, for escapes in the desert of Jerico where if they saw crimson Ophiuchus of the valleys that are from the boiling thesis of who always sees the twelve Giant camels dragging Judas, and clutching camelid legs where he was never safe.

5 years and 1 month
that's 61 months
that's a total of 1,855 days
of me waking up next to the smell of you
a smell that will forever linger in my nose

I learned that this is called the Proust effect
certain scents bypass the brains thalamus and go directly to the smell center
causing them to trigger the most vivid memories and emotions

on that note

I found your shirt the other day
as I was trying to purge any evidence of you from my life
But I could not toss it aside before holding it to my face and inhaling your all too familiar smell

as the scent filled my nose
the flashbacks began

and now I can't sleep

fMRIs of brains under emotional pain show neural activity in the exact same regions (insula, dACC, and thalamus) when physical pain is felt.

i open my eyes,
each sunrise
to feel
his warm breeze.

i walk the pavements
of wisdom
just to sense
his saturated touch.

i look up and witness
the horizontal thin layers
of autumn skies,
forcefully done
like his breathless goodbyes.

yes, there were
ambivalence
at first.

or maybe,
there weren't
who knows?

i had to
do
what i did
just to
dissemble
the fact that-
that there were fear
in her eyes,
yours truly,
and yes,
i was able.

although
languor
caressed my cheeks
like no one else did
my mind
my heart,
up to my thalamus
down to my tummy butterflies,
i was filled
with
mild
jubilation.

felicitous
thoughts
overflowed,
lik­e halcyon notes
and waves
refracted on the walls,
and scenic moonshine
and sun rays
draw my days like
it was them
asking me
to saunter,
and to murmur
the words
"you" wanted to hear

but the sound
the keycaps make
doesn't end
with simple
"hey and hello"

it actually started
with a "ping"
and there she goes:
"hey, i have
a not-so-huge crush
on you,
a tiny little crush,
like vapors
no roar."

thirteen nights passed,
thirteen days trashed,
she thought t'was done,
over, capped,
she thought that
it was just a snippet of
likeness and will
soon conclude.

so, step 1: deny? maybe
i was wrong? or was he?
step 2: wrath! rant?
oh trust me, she had
thirteen people to chat
step 3: no more bargains,
no more trades,
no room for sadness
just proceed with
step 5: acceptance

but.

he said but this:
"your name, yes yours
were the first
to enter in this
quadrilateral dialogue
box, and yes
thirteen moons passed
and still, you're
all that "cached"
in my memory,
not too blurry to skim
and not too
drunken to spill."

there he and she started
typing the cynosure
story.


maybe i like you,
or maybe i don't
and today,
this day,
this night,
is when you'll see
and
when you'll hear
with your human lens
and mundane ears
what we are
how we are
and what we may be
and that is the
denouement
of our story,
so,

this is my proposal:
thirteen days sketched to three

Part 1

(A lone voice whispers)

At the Most High Temple
On the unmapped mountains

Once climbed recklessly by illuminated souls such as

Nostradamus or Louis Bellefontaine

To meet the neverending sensation

The imperceptible incarnation emitting that magnetic pull and lull

Which haunted their every waking seconds and vivid dreams
With its unwarranted invasion

Who many contemporary colleagues

Then viewed as touched with a trace of Darkened Lilith Madness

For when the Mighty Dagon
The mythical beast of the Deep North Sea

Heard my calls for knowledge and wisdom

Sent blowing like paper boats
Sailing through the world's silence

Of the vicious violence in the Middle East

Overflowing with prayers
Spiritually charged with erratic need

He too sent me a personal invitation
Which would lead me into a new age of transformation

To the lonely place where I lived by the raging sea
Known only to a select few

As The Shadow and The Key

The Dagon
Invisible invader of the human thalamus

The Dream Walker
Whisperer in the Darkness

Came to me in Kansas
At midnight

With lightning and thunder announcing his sudden arrival
At the Shadow and The Key

It told me deep occult secrets

Only kept in the heavily guarded vaults
Beyond the Blue Door of the Marianas Trench

Sealed by incarnations and potent harming spells
To deflect the Broken

Seething and entrenched with dark dreams seeking only revenge

It spoke of red wars
Red rivers
Broken dreams
Torn minds and souls

Power-hungry controlled pawns used by unspoken things like it

Supernatural creatures

Which create their new forms of piety by handing out subliminal lyric sheets

So they can keep the hypnotised singing their war songs

It warned me of a lady in blue

A shadow walker who would soon call to the Shadow and The Key

And offer me glorious pleasure as we lay entwined by the sea

It said to choose wisely for the Red Wars

The red rivers of Broken Dreams and Torn minds and Souls

Would soon need someone strong

To lessen the blows from those pulling the strings

For the unseen monsters in control

Someone to soothe their pain with illuminated prose

And then with a crash of white lightning

Striking the fireplace clock
Right in its timekeeper's small face

It was gone

The Mighty Dogan told me a time and date

She would arrive

Idh-yaa
Or to some Quum-yaa

Cthulhu's Mate
The Mighty Mother or the Gothic Matriarch

One of the last Great Old Ones

But to me
Just The Lady in Blue who with her love

Would could carry the velvety tainted baskets

Filled with the snakes of corruption that could worsen the planet's fate

Well
Today's the foretold date

And the time is tonight at eight

Sitting here by the soft sea
Warm in my refuge from the world

In my beige smoker's jacket
In The Shadow and The Key

Shall I answer the door when she knocks and be a gracious host

Or should I ignore it and try to bring hope to the world

By starting my new form of poetic Renaissance

To soothe the few when they need it the most

(C)
Copyright John Duffy

Sadness is a ray of darkness
Blind photons darting in effervescent emotion
Melting away the grip of pericardium
Waterboarding tired heart
Smiles are labour pains
Laughter, a jaggered cut through grey matter of necrotic brains
Thalamus, grave of relayed impulses
Empty carotid, dead heart in danger
The night is darker
Your shadow, your stalker
Call the Bishop
Tell the imam to bring the Bible
The Abbot and the crucifix, love and no jinx
Wake mother, hold the door for father
A son is coming, their last daughter
Tell Mungo Galapagos is not Darwin
Basquait was a raincloud
A mean frown in the sky
Tell Kelly journeys have two ends
That tears are diggers
Say these before sunrise.

The truth of self
is evident; really

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The pineal gland, also known
as the conarium or  epiphysis
cerebri, is a small   endocrine
gland in the vertebrate  brain.
The pineal gland produces melatonin,
a serotonin-derived  hormone
which modulates sleep patterns
in both circadian and   seasonal
cycles. The shape of the gland
resembles a pine cone, hence its name.

The pituitary gland is a tiny *****,
the size of a pea, found at the base
of the brain. As the “master gland”
of the body, it produces many hormones
that travel throughout the body,
directing certain processes or stimulating
other glands to produce other   hormones.
Precursor Neural ectoderm, roof of diencephalon
Artery: posterior cerebral artery
Latin: glandula pinealis
Pineal gland or epiphysis    (in back of the brain).

[Expand this mental image to include depth, mass & motion];
The pineal gland, also known as the conarium
or epiphysis cerebri, is a small endocrine gland
in the vertebrate brain. The pineal gland produces
melatonin, a serotonin-derived hormone  which
modulates sleep patterns in both circadian  and
seasonal cycles. The shape of the gland resembles
a pine cone, hence its name.   The pineal gland
is located in the epithalamus,     near the center
of the brain, between the two hemispheres,
tucked in a groove where the two halves of the thalamus join.