No Sense, nonsense

Such is love , such is freedom, an empty space full of nothing and yet apparent .

Abundant and rich yet utterly empty. Such a love without cause. Such a love without anything. Unbeknown even unto itself which is without self.

Even self without self is expressed in this emptiness. A burgeoning Big Bang in each non moment without a moment. It is without. It is not and yet is. A universal stillness without a universe. A paradoxical explosion that didn’t happen. A death without a life. A life without a death. Death and life without either nor neither.

An embrace without arms. A love without a lover. A no one without a someone nor a no one. Being without being. A body in a plane with fingers typing, flying over a stunning land, but not. A sense of awe that doesn’t belong to plane or land or body or life. Already dead but never lived. Only life, but never was born. No sense, nonsense. I love you, though you and I aren’t.


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