What to a void
What o void calls me back to you
except laziness and nostalgia
on this chilly july morning
when no sun is up
and my sap runs low
I wish to be reborn
delivered of your sybaritic influence
O for a mantic tangent
a shot that clears this dread propinquity
What o void calls me back to your plump arms
you escape-clause in my contract with mundane earth
Is it your offer of incomparable perfection
blissful opulence of nought
inhabiting a boundless bosom
to suckle or nest on
cleavage adorable
I thought i'd forsaken childish things
this whirling back into dizzied emptiness
and guilt-edged dreams
almost beyond the reach of shame and hurt inconsolable
as if thrall to the humours of that spume-begotten sea-witch, Aphrodite
who surfs the bowling beach-waves
with fractal joy
spiralling into solipsism
and faint death
I know why i return o void
to lie me down
and enter through the omphalic portal
the hermetic vale
forbidden to human consciousness else
where i would tap
the psychic impulse
of the elemental womb
O black sinkhole uncharted
what to avoid is you
on your terms
thou plausible one
petulant when night is done
so go go go
before i succumb
to dream
is one thing asleep
and awake another
mcmxcviii
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