Water welcomes the body, and its bodiless immersions. To weigh the senses upon weightlessness... refreshed to rebirth. Only, bathing in consciousness is what creates the water for rebirth...nothing comes close, except everything.
If life cannot be seperated from death, if it's understood as life-death, instead of life and death. That's a horse of a different color. If life-death cannot be seperated from that which has no beginning or end... it can as soon be reversed to: death-life. In that light, it would appear--and it does seamlessly...our immortality.
Nightfall at the bay... humid air cut cool, body contracting. Sending suddenness searching through ruffled ripples. The clouds like the inside of a torn drum. The size of sound in absence...my latest version of dissolution vibrates with approval.
Does every sense perception dream exclusively? If so, they're bound to get lost...and emerge out of one another. Eventually agreeing to meet at the same spot...to become lucid.
Far into the night I spied a long dead star like that dark light I saw through the pane of your window, like a signal for me that it was all clear now to move on to another exile, another woman, another island to banish myself, another liaison with dawn.