Of all the things
That were false
Which I believed to be true
The one I'll miss most of all
Is the child
That came out of you

today, you seem

to swim consciously
in the blurry happenings

absorptive
of both their chaotic canopies
and their knotted stilts
in substantial intertwining


your recent form, you
effervescing lightness, as i deep-delve
into your freeform spectacle
in scribes and silence

is

a contemplated combobulation
in almost a hidden haziness: there's  
but a fiery flame within
in boundless lucidity  


of the flaring galactical suns
and the sacred smoking eyeblack
smears around from cores, the blackwhole scripts

that you realized
and still in the go as you grow
full and null  and full and null
and so.     verse traverse

your phasal swings
unto that yielding amplitude

that one unreturning


singularity


.