That Nothing Fix


That Nothing Fix

Hungry for that nothing fix
I soon devised my exodus,
My exodus
From genesis,
A primal dawn without those tricks,
Hungry for that nothing mix,

Hungry for that surreal name
I hungered for
The nothing game
A nothing game of sacred fame,
A sacred frame where nothing came,
Hungry for that surreal name,

Crimsoned with her holy kiss
Chained with my own secret-ness,
Blanketed with tenderness,
Shining bright from a silver hiss,
Crimsoned by her nothingness,

Buckled down without her fear
For the holy hand of God is near
Silver pathed splayed i-ching sticks –
Maître d’ of lunatics,
In hungering for those nothing kicks,

Crushed with love – the symphony,
Underneath the divine soliloquy;
Astral planes adorned in ecstasy
We’re the hungry one’s at the jubilee,
Crushed with love – the symphony.

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