Sapphire silence of that blue empty velvet
mirrors the space of my mind.
I watched myself watching you
through your eyes, burning in desirous flames.
And I became the tree of the morn
soaked in passion; drips, drops
caressing every inches of your fractal curves
kinks and pricks, tulips and thrones.
I am the world you see,
through the eyes of your dreams.
Subject and object are entwined,
in a liquid field of sexed-up whole
an error of misplaced duality, is forgiven
by the pure naught.
There is no “me”, there is no “you”
only a field of relations
we make out, we make each other.
Silence speaks the grammar of Nothing
a closure in the plane of time
translates to a feastly inauguration,