the paint in the glass is not yet completely diluted
currently one out of three, that is then and there
suffocating and overtaking but the weaker the farther from
the actual place of intrusion - for once violated
carbonic life bleeds inwards and further: beyond itself
eventually (not if but when, and we call it a wound)
the farther from the point - certainty becomes potential
no longer clarity of crystal no longer the doubtful
form of immortality in a fossil: instead immortality of form
however empty and futile all things wet and soft are exempt
invented for comfort of these who knew they won't
consolidate (sometime, and we could call it a memory)
so open up and bleed yourself into a linear future
disperse and diffuse into alternatives: open it and intrude
the water ever patient with contempt for its own insides
knows only one way of purification: dehydrate
seep throgh to where true virtue is found:
in minerals (for now, and we call it death)
pour yourself into divinity disperge in a splash
sink into a milisecond where your form truly lies
elevate, sanctify, ascend and above all, evaporate
all that is certain in and for life: apotheosis
so open up and bleed yourself outwards to show your
colours (mostly bright red, as good as all)