Where nothingness lays

Taking your touch

– what temporal fancy –

for naught in the past

and much less the present

there for us lays.


It lays thereafter

where torrents connective

dimensionless cascade.

There, where emptiness lays

and the disparate in closeness delivers.


Sensing it certain and grasping unable

in there, where nothingness lays.

Ineffable, that void perpetual

where all which is worthy shall seed.


From it and through it,

arriving at once,

the knowledge embodied in madness conceived

by gifts collected from unity’s trees

you touch me and through me are freed.



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