Love Making

 

We crush and blend into one vibration;

The energy that moves us 

Is the infinite potential of experience! 

Like the stem cells becoming bones, 

or blood, 

or skin, 

Depending on epigenetic decisions

Of the morfogenetic expressions.

There is no one

And still there is a state

Of such glorious manifestation

That the saints call an epithany.

The oldest cells

That emerged at the beginning

Of the being

Mirror the same essence

From beyond the retina

Gazing into the black holes

That lead to the dimension

Of the souls...

We wear the shapes

So we can melt

From the fire of passion

And play with our bodies 

As kids with plastiline

Fractals 

Of conscious consciousness 

In blinks of space 

And matter. 

Until we accept

There is all the nuances

Squeezed together, 

Pulled, 

broken, 

recombined, 

Infinite the spectrum 

Of states and sentience, 

And a form 

Who vanishes

When it's felt the same elements that compose it

Are to be found in all the themes

Of every one, 

Who isn't even a certain one, 

But like lucid clay 

Moulded by invisible hands, 

That constantly 

And eternally 

Plays shapes

And delusions about bodies

As unique 

And precious 

As One can imagine, 

While their matter 

Works as collateral resources 

And carries within 

The voice of the snakes whisperer, 

Transmuting the dense

Into God.