In liquid hours, engaging with the sea; becoming vapor; the slow undulating... With condensation returning to the deep; gone the burden of sentimentality. I am a self contraction. I am no longer living, instead it lives through me, unconditionally. Unconditionally. Self adulation won’t save the day when death embraces in the end. We’re just returning from where we came; we live our lifetimes in a day. Movements mesmerize and dance duality; the sweaty palms of seers clasp the fingers of the seen. In mutual existence; the stitch of unseen seams, cigarette burns the blanket: light becomes a beam. Listen: still, attentively! the static obscures the simplicity: revel in the obscurity. No pressure: love is a gesture.