There’s a black you can’t see…
but you can smell it, you can listen to it…
It comes from the far side of the nights like a floating sarangi,
like a folk beast.
The eyes of a erected saint…you may drown in it’s faceless surface.
Don’t make a machine out of it,
don’t make a human out of it…
Just stay in it’s path like trees oscillate in concealed wind.
The emissions are starry…the dimensionless body makes you feel the singularities.
Make a drink for yourself…listen to a playlist that you have forgotten long ago,
and let it serve you the sweetest orgasms there are.
It comes once in a blue moon, many have lost their serenity for a speck of this magnificent murk.
When you get it let it kill you in your loneliest times.
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Photograph: Google.
Random Repeat 