b(l)ind...

.

nuit
ou
jour
tu es
invisible
comme le vent
mais
je t'écoute

.

the seven states of matter...

please read from the bottom line...
===============================
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

..................................................................................your
..................................................................always in...........thoughts


.........................................................................you
...............................................you... no one but


..................................................................you
.......................................the fire burning in


.....................................................you
..............................in each breath..........take


...............................................you
..................flowing... engulfing


........................................you
................far... far... from


................................you
........alone... without

i am

.

a high potency remedy...

.

grinding the gregarious gluttony of a guilty gibbon into

girdling gravels of a giving glimmer

d i s s o l v i n g

or perhaps

fffffffllllllloooooooaaaaaaatttttttiiiiiiinnnnnnnggggggg
in the medium
of the murmuring moments

one of a hunderd

diluting the delusion
succussing the singing whole

one of a hundred

diluting the illusion
succussing the sorely serene role

one of a hundred

diluting the fusion
succussing the succumbed senses of a soul

diluting as deep as you are ready to dig
and succussing as high as you want to fly
from the coat into the core

passing through the gate of avogadro's limit
visiting the vintage of an invisible essence

.

the crystallography of a soul...

.

o

the room temperature was

o

f

a

l

l

i

n

g

d

o

w

n

the heaven

o

toooeooomoooiooorooosooonooosoooioooiooooooolooofo

ooohoooooooonoopooeoooeoootooopoooroootooofoooioooe

was embodied in a broken crow

o

n

o

shining with a soft amber light

from

a fire in the dungeon of the earth

o

repelling the moths

unlike all the lights

o

waiting to burn down the cosmos in each

cell

bleeding a crimson footprint

with a blue flame

a

t

o

p

o

.

s u b l i m a t i o n . . .

.

a heavely hell
burns
in me

the imprisoned volatile elements of the cosmos
erupt
on the skin of my futuristic past presence
blooming into
the yellow flowers of sulfur
flawless and soulful
never flowing through the tunnel of time and place

.