This fascinating truth comes out
from your mouth to surround
my feelings like the lights
that touch the darkness
in the underground - optical fiber sensors
in the smart fields with heat,
vibration,
bending,
or squeezing. This truth
is a thing I know for sure,
a thing I know

I can live for. It makes me understand
our relationship
from the inside out. A new sun
is inside this secret world
of our little garden
situated in front of our cave temple,
and I spend time fleshing out
precisely
what "embodied" signifies. Optical fibers
always pick up ground tremors. Even so, I am the only
one trying to do something good
around, but I am growing up in slavery
on your love plantation,
which is ruthless and
has turbulent waters. The sun disappears there,
nor its rays can
heat the floods to make them disappear.

This truth is like a holm.
It makes you rethink
what you know about the Creation,
and what love means,
when you are still alive
on the edge of your thinking
between certitude and denial,
and when God is out of your vision.

It is about
overcoming the idea
of what makes you be so fearful. I fell in love
with you the way you fall asleep:
all at once while standing
like the sun in the sky before the sunset.

Clean and uncluttered, this truth
belongs to a twilight time and makes you,
sometimes,
do absurd things. We are inside this plasma,
and plasma is inside
everything. It is
incandescent in the sun, and I am
curious to know if
you are able to
stop orbit yourself around it
even for a second. No, you are not able to
do this, but you are able
to stop the truths be spoken. All the absurd
things are cool. Their spirits lose
their oxygen ions
to generate that matter
in no pain. The spiritual things
are in pulsing metamorphosis
to break in pieces,
or to turn back after a long, hard,
but reversing process before becoming
anachronistic.