Aha yeah. Uh no no no. Hmmm, phew. A lightning bolt hits truth in deep meditation. Suddenly, on the dance floor, I know. A forest creature whispers in tongues. Clarity woven into haunting dreams. Where knowing beyond words dance with the rhythm of breath, I enter the heart’s labyrinth. Paradoxes…

As the blue sun appears under the right and the red sun appears under the left armpit of the sky, I feel that what I will leave written here is unimportant. (I enjoy the ease of this little pain that I have to deny.) I write secretly, so the stars…

what’s in front of you? it covers the bed wrinkles heart, intestines, the things i say to myself when i wake i want smooth blank please . let me be

The self-decline bastion of human rights, rises above, But gravity makes angels fall, They chased  Lilith out of  pardes Arguments for killing of one another’s kin, She here white money whispering about a could, dead and flemming goal In the end we might be hurte  and after hurte there is…

In Marcel Proust’s novel In Search of Lost Time (1913–27), there are passages where the protagonist, whose name we are never told throughout this seven-volume work, is overwhelmed by a sensuous experience which triggers a flood of memories that completely overtake him. The most well-known is the episode with the…

[air, sight, ray of light] Zrak is a ray of sunshine. The Sun, its parent and source, is always there. Zrak moves quickly and playfully around. Its being is warm and light. It brings time and space with it as it goes. Zrak fell on the surface of water. Zrak’s…

Welcome, my love. We are THE WAVE beaming out at ∞ΩΩ ⊕Ω∞ ⋏⊙۵ m/s to an infinite field of possibility.   Born into form, a dance of particle, a charm of matter. We sing, we breathe, we love, we connect through a plane, of all that is orderly and coherent…

Vibrations in air, the warmth expands the unspoken longing. Glue that enchants spaces between.   We move from particle existence to loosen grip, the hard understanding of reality. Each conscious act unpicks the molecular. ● ∘      ◌ ∴      ⋮ ⋯     ≍ ≋ ﹏ We become The Wave…

They walked slowly down the corridor streets, eyes looking ahead for the edge of the land. Dying embers on charred wood still smoking, cracking between curled fingers. Both the city and night, quiet. Two figures black against a growing ocean. A long breath, ribs, shoulders, chest, rising and falling across…

The rain lashes, the wind whips, many damp people groan and tut at the audacity of a wet winter. A journey; a long one with bags of objects that would be considered entirely surplus. We arrive and are left in the absence of tension. The scent in the air is…