It breaks like waves against the cranium
Again and again the syncopated beat of my heart
Is it magic? Is it a miracle?
Is there madness behind such a glowing word?
Ramblings of a madman, I'd rather me insane than comprehending extreme sanity.
What sanity is there in a world that holds no bounds?
What gods can there be when man in turn becomes his own god?
I have no answers, I am all but questions.

Urgent and bursting, it is a sweet fruit that ripens until juice trickles out,
Turgid and thick, quivering and throbbing like breath itself,
Not solid or liquid but a state inbetwixt.

Maybe this is mania, maybe this is something above what I am?
Who am I if not for my breath and my breaking?
It is the gaps that make the solid thing whole.