Sending notes into pits, letting them find their own words to write into pages of books, belonging to intellect.
Focusing onto pages left over from visions deepened by spirituality and held closely to my soul.
Heart vibrating quickly, taking into account, the rhythms of my soul as they reverberate across heaven.
Finding spaces to reside in, getting into shape, exercising their figures and copulating definitions into factual images, sounding like histories of etudes from classical signs of yesterday.
Looking closely as the sun sets itself over my mind, closing doors for just moments at a time, fixing all sentences in collaboration with poetical mysteries.