the deserts of eden

self consciousness roams in the deserts of eden,
a mirage of nothingness in paradise

self consciousness preserves what is human,
and sacrifices the divine

self consciousness makes borders in piles of sand, and makes things into objects,
and expands through contraction

self consciousness gives me life but blinds me to reality

self consciousness resembles a spider’s web,
a shadow of stability and comfort
a prison in the shape of an oasis

self consciousness is a television next to a mountain stream

self consciousness is God’s desire to dream


even if you cast me out,
into a cardboard box,
a solitary cell,
or a bed with a disintegrating brain,
I will share with you my heart,
I will give my body,
in exchange for truth,
and for the light of existence,
I will take the leap over the edge,
and find the featherbed,
or bed of nails,
I do not know even a second more,
and not the least shape of things,
but I will listen to you,
dear life,
and I will fold,
like the canals,
through the city,
and I will sing my soul loudly,
just because I’m alive,
not by mistake,
but by mystery