I can love you..
but that doesn’t
mean that we
won’t drift apart.

I can touch you..
but that doesn’t
mean that I can
hold your heart.

I can kiss you..
but that doesn’t
mean you’ll feel
upon thy lips
my heat.

I can miss …

My grand
poetic project
is completed..
so what now?
And what on Earth
comes after then?

And do
the credits roll at last?
And do we finally
observe the bloopers
and the outtakes
from our cozy warmth
of windy hell?

I know that heaven
is off limits
for the likes …

For The Law
was given
through Moses.
Grace and truth
came through
Jesus.. our Christ.
Non-attachment
through Gautama
Buddha.
But what of it,
if any, was mine?

In truth,
The All and Nothing
of above that
sprouted from below.
I merely am
an earthly man
who tended to
The Tree …

Here truly is
an Israelite
in whom
there’s
no deceit.

What truths
did you
discover,
my disciple..
on your
pilgrimage
to the fig
tree?

The less
I own..
The less
there is
to hold
its power
over me..
to bind.

Whichever
fruits fall freely
on my head
shall not …

I don’t know
what I want..
something
like this..
but better
in this and
that way.

Nothing
too important.
We’re only but
a blemish
or two
away.

But it’s all
in the reframing.
All I want is also
something
more.

There is
the will to self
improvement …

When blood
is in the water..
who can smell?

The scent
of weakness
lingering
in water-air.

But do they have
the gall..
but do I have
the gills?

One truth
is certain..
both of us
can swim.

What does Death
sip on at her feasts?
Might it be water
used to baptize
prisoners of life
in Little Ease?

Or was it
alchemized
by her already
into wine?
And was
the miracle
she pulled
for free?
Or did it cost
a pretty dime?

In truth,
turning of water …

Me, myself, and I..
Already always
makes a three.

Son of The Mask
that hides
a mirror image
of The Father..
to The Spirit
(not the letter)
of The Word..
encoded to
a string.

Alas, the mask
comes off,
the mirror shatters,
and the string
is torn to characters..
The …

Dark triad
to sublime..
to wicked
holy trinity.
Three signs
that elevate us
to uncountable
infinities.

The mask
that hides
the mirror
that reflects
the string..
that pulls us
towards where
we need to be.

What might
we find upon
The Other Side?
The unattached
and unreflected..
unconcealed
nothing.

Our ebbs are more absurd than ever, but our flows are still prestigious. Say what you will about The Two Observers.. our staying power speaketh for itself. In double digits.

Indeed, there is a method to our madness and a science to our art. Speaking of science, this 10th episode …