The Lattice

In inky blackness or across paper thin surfaces
You could call them the opposite of cracks appearing
Invisible to the eye
On a non-liquid through which constantly travel
Waves of truth

Outside of your toes, of your eyes, of that facial expression, of your nails
Wrapped around the phallus of my ego and not roughly moving

Beautiful

No one should prod or poke this eternal surface in its congealing
For these you must know are the opposite of cracks

Fun

You cannot prod or poke it you must let it stand and you must let the opposite of cracks
Like the fingers of trees on a steel sky or light on light in thousands of lights
Or nerves, or dancing organisms, dancing - do not prod them

You must say "beyond good and evil" which is the same as a code word for
truth

If you want to keep your love - kiss

Do not under any circumstances let either fear or haste touch these gradually appearing
Opposites of cracks because these lines
Are a painting

of Love

Fields

The world is a strange field upon which deeds are written
An interlaced web of mirrors in which faces are revealed

Deeds of courage send perturbations out through these fields
And also thoughts which seem to be wired in between everything

What good are miracles to those of us left behind
Are they any better than lighthouses to ships already wracked on the reefs?

This field and its events are not two
Existence precedes essence

These deeds turn brushes that paint colors on wheels that spin back
Upon themselves over eternity