“As the embodied soul continuously passes, in this body, from boyhood to youth to old age, the soul similarly passes into another body at death. A sober person is not bewildered by such a change," Bhavagad Gita.

Every day I listen to the beating of my lonely heart. Ululate. Conceal my revelations and my pains. Every day a sparrow mellows. Immerse inside my soul; take me back a thousand years. Seasons flow from tiny hands to growing palm-hairs. Fall hues taint the melatonin shells. Brush my hairs with white streaks. Resolve my problems and my fears. Tear-oils leak from my kaleidoscopes. I open to my tender and allow my mind to daydream. The color of cherry blossom winds stroke my cheeks in the Eve of Christ. Evoke the memories of my past and future. Vanish flames the natal gust. Sky ribbons descend from the stratus clouds. Seconds blossom as my hands wind right. Swimming in moonlight showers the divine harmonies of the cherubim. Fractal memories of lightwaves in four dimensions; I travel. Open the book of lotus petals. Merry Christmas, the windwaker calls. I taste the purification of heavenly tears. Release sake’s foxfires. Cocoon myself in the furs of Ninetails. Witness the Vermillion Bird flapping its wings against the Azure Dragon. Painting my day dandelion’s marigold. Blow the petals toward the rushing river. Emptiness closes my eyes once more. Feel the icy warmth of my rushing crimson. Discordant arpeggios variegate. The weeping willow extends his arms towards me. Sunspots burst tones of divine tsunamis. Matrix cords of multivariable calculus. Peace is the trunk of the Oakwood. Return to human presence. Music moves the sundial’s lethargic fouettes. Emancipate the doves from the traps of conscience. Euphony to my ears…mouth…larynx…lungs…diaphragm…arteries…brain…veins…naval: unveil the yin-yang’s chi from the shrine within. The chairman lives in you, undulating his violin strings. Embrace a snowflake melting into the chocolates creamed. Reverse my forever, love’s hollow fluting drums. Bloom my hands and feet from a winter’s rest. In, out, in, out, the moon pulls the blankets of the sea onto the grained beach. May you rest in peace. The smiles heal the intersection on the boulevard of broken dreams. Point my boat to my final destination, compass of thorned beauty. I’m falling slowly in the strumming of my guitar. Unrivaled fairness is the black hole between parallel verses. I cry wisdom drops. Arigato, my dearly Beloved. This will be my last “I love you.” Consume Timaeus’s perfections: fire, water, air, earth, quintessence. Typhoon, drizzle your damp hair onto the ground. I am at my end: so happy. Blissful are the palm trees sweeping the sands of the shore. Thunder, feel the lightning of my gentle finger. Pass the incarnate of my avatars; learn to be life’s absurdity. Rub that eucalyptus oil; it will numb the sadness of truth: passion lies in the knowledge that death will come. An amaranth sprouts from my sour nipples. Oh beautiful Chaos, sink my lips into the abyss…