connection stable
war is effort, it is
unrest,
it is , it is rapture...
and the bloody, brutal dramatization
of becoming god within a simple wandering grain of clay,
born from the with which the spirit seeks.
it is the subconscious transfiguring itself
into conflagrating volition... and the cohort
of every race, surrendering itself to death
for the happiness of the creature!
it is the obsession with seeing ,
the horrendous instinct
to ascend within the cosmic order by descending
into primitive irrationality...
it is nature which, within its arcana,
must drench itself in human
to show mankind that it is alive!
pain, health of beings that wither,
wealth of the soul, psychic treasure,
joy of the glands of weeping
from which all tears emanate...
you are supreme! my atoms rejoice
to belong to you, oh pain, anchorage
of the wretched, sun of the brain, gold
with which misfortunes themselves adorn themselves!
i am your lover! i burn within your abstract body.
with the magical corpuscles of touch
i seize the orchestra of flames that you perform...
and thus, without the convulsion that makes me bloom,
my greatest bliss is to possess
your absolute clarities!