The Nothing Becomes You

It could be a big glowing ball with tentacles
A circus inside a baby’s ribcage
The flaming string-section of a comsmic godess
It could be pseudo plasma
And quantum particles
And all those really gooey scientific things that we like to dissect
It could be thrones and right hands
And men in white robes
It could be tired of our probing eye
It could be saying: «Give it up y’all, you’re explaining my miracles away»
See me
I always go with the nothing
I can always get back to that
I can take a long warm sip of you
Taste the galaxy in my hiccups and lie back
Full of nothing
I look around at the chaos, the audiences, the news reports
And see that emptiness that holds every molecules
And besides we all look so damn good in nothing
The sounds get brighter, and the colours get louder
And sometimes it even get’s peaceful
But let me tell you it’s not always comfertable
Awareness is not just soft clouds and rainbows
Awareness is the burning flesh smell of a oppression
And the choice to not cut off your nose
It’s the ghost of building bones and the wilting mounds of bodies rushing
towards pavement then whispiring to yourself:
«assalamu alaikum»
It’s feeling like you can’t do anything
And you fidget and squirm until you’re actually doing something
It’s the secret impulse of evolution
It doddels and mienders (?), but it always comes through
It’s the realization that love is fuel
Not glue
Two things has to be seperate before they can be welded together
So I will not weld myself to you, but with every conversation like this
Every sorting-session, I stitch your sun to my breastbone and become new
It’s the twenty seconds I just spent being present
Twenty seconds you spent with me, being present
And in an instant, all we were was twenty seconds
And this is not a memory, this is not a dream
This is the only moment that we have to sing our healing
It’s knowing that we are not floating
We are choice strings and the knots between us build wings
So, you can call it the big glowing ball with tentacles
Or higher power, jesus or jazz
And I can cal it the infinete, the cosmos, the truth, the nothing
That if I may say so, really becomes you
And so it is