I am the monad of death left
in the negative and the ego
has burrowed into darkness, continually tossed
into the realm of dichotomy with the tension
of unsettled business.
I am the transparency, the soul is the light
projecting the damage through a laminate lens.
mature soul waiting to age—
another phase goes by, inside of me
there’s a special smile
possessed by your presence;
I love only Beauty herself
and she doesn’t care at all. She is like a summer
breeze, the present second
washing over without passing.
I know why my mother is like
a child; God cast us
into a world of opposites to let our free half wild,
to return to the slavery of essence
like a dog tied to a moving car;
I’ve stopped running, drag me to heaven
to learn the value of death like Jesus:
To be is to be parted. I greet it now,
the peak from anticipating to reflecting.
– Los Angeles, CA