IN THE SLOT OF THE BLACK ROCK – EXPERIENCE OF THE KNOWLEDGE ABOUT THE HONEST ME

in the high grass where the wind blows
i find the landscape of myself
the gentleness of colors
the tenderness of the slope
cliff cut like fragments of personality brutally splintered by someone
these cells and the spaces between them
the memory from before suggests the fleeting nature of my core of axis

i am a reflection in the space of infinity
double countenance
diversity and extremes
being lost and the initial force
breath and the suspension of it
transition, bridge, gate
i am the unnamed
both the spoken and the only thought-of word
i am the road to nowhere
the limit and timelessness
continuous flow
soft warm dampness
a slit in the black rock
a danger not only to myself
thought and energy
creating over and over again
free will without borders
imagination constructing a form
i give life and I take it
i open and i close, surrendering myself to
i am