Which loves do you bleed?

Whose blood do you need?

Cisterns full of brine.

All day long we slave away.
But we have forgotten.
We lost our recognizance.

All we have now is routine.


Routine
will save us all.


ROUTINE FOR GOD.

Remember,
We're talking about evolution
We're talking about suicide
We're talking about dreams
We're talking about the first day you woke up in a bed and it wasn't yours
We're talking about that bed, made of snakes
vibrating so smooth it makes you shiver
We're talking about those snakes,
how they are made of particles
made of particles
made of particles.
We're talking about the realization that particles are just energy,
vibrating so fast you can touch it.
We're talking about birds talking to crickets
We're talking about blackness and lightning.
We're talking about serious ******* and *******.

I give you permission to use my genitals
as a derogatory statement
As long as I can call yours god.

Why prove yourself?
I already trust you.
Your experience is valid

Reality is always justified.

You are a scientist,
of your own life process

You are a cartographer,
of your metaphysical landscapes

You are an architect,
for your neumenological infrastructures

And now you exhale
the culture of your Force.
Quickly the fluttering dwarves ignite
Kamikaze sneeze.
Infect me with your objectivity.
Drizzle me in
mammalian warp.

You Know.
You love to feel. Really feel.
Not all that pony phony excrement.
NO
I want to feel. I want to flow.
And now I can.
No longer does my mind win/
Now I am free to lose my body to my surroundings.
To listen to the rhythm of my cells, the rhythm of my blood.
My heart beats
and I listen.

Harmonize the sentiments.
Float on the the synchronicity.
Extricate the energy
vibrating     pulsating    reverberating            Charge.

Tinge with respite. Ignite the tinder
of my uninhibited beauty. EXPLODE in oneirostatic luminance
Leave your brain, but find your body.
And with them find your self, finding them. E
vaporate, into infinite    Tactation.
         Consummate the Sensations of your wordless soul.
What we cannot express with our words we express with our skin.

See me. Feel me. Touch me. Feel me.

Lick the tentacles in my pores.
**** the mandibles from my constant bite wounds.
The seed of intertwining life sought through the seed of the lymnescate.
Transference

Note to my plural self: Listen to my thoughts more often,
especially when they don't come from my head.

Rhythms carry time. Flow rhythms water the timewave. Grow rivers find the groove. DANCE the current and find the      soothing     bedrock    rootscape.
Find it with your ultimate states of dissolution.
Find it and it will carry you.
Find it and explode.

**EXTRICATE EUPHORIA