Experimental VI

Composed whilst intoxicated.

One star, one form,
We are one storm
Held together by prediction and model
But no storm
And no form
That could ever contain our soul
That could ever contain our connation.
But held together by the sound of galaxies.
As far as my blinded eye could ever see.
From one event-horizon t'another.
The sound of galaxies—
Music to the ever-eternal
And language to who are first-born
Begot of reality and the ripples of consciousness
That attempt to normalize the planes.

M.M. — Aug-25-2016

I think I stepped out of myself. What I saw as I walked on were just shapes and forms rushing by me. Or grinning faces selling something or other that came half-alive, and jittered. Time shifted awry. In the wrong way. I think I stepped out of myself. Watching myself from just to my side...or...maybe not my side. Someone else's. ...Something else's. Dissociated. I think there are planes of reality, that normally are layered. Interleaved. Mine went all askew. Mind went all askew.