Yet as this new-sprung prince of undiscovered sterling qualities made to enter the immense cordon thorn lance-a-lot barricade the thicknightet hedge theurgically parted only to close again after his advance opening into redolent wild roses devoid of their prior barbed prongs. And even these sweetbriars bent aside and gave way until the now-present-prince found himself in my perfumed palace gardens where winds beleaguered not the boughs and all lay in a languorous lull.…
Still I lie in the eye, the cyclonic eye, of the hurricane of my élan vital… my name writ in water… my mana name writ in… I…
A soul divided against its self, its pneuma holy-goes-self, cannot…
I wait and I wonder… I wonder and wait…
Might there be a true Theory of Everything… maybe some super brane theory… a linchpin of life… with a way to anchor to… access within… its absolute allness… from the base of my own diminutive smallness…?
I’m locked in my nacreous tower world…
What would the key to that kingdom be… to unlock an inner hypaethral me…?
The skyless ceiling of my citadel tower is splitting open. I sense my stupa room expanding to ultimate intrinsicality, dimensionlessly vast, past exosphere, far beyond cobalt skied boundaries of the envelope of esse-self. I begin to see that all belongs to an illimitable interpenetrating network of cause and effect, although I’m incapable of grasping its infinite interconnectedness. I want to abide in this utter, abstruse, profound, and superlatively all-comprehensive omnificence. I want to give my purview self, my skyey me in it, to that something greater than what I think, I feel, I know, agnize I am.
…
What makes one being brave the bottomless abyss and venture forth into the void dividing him from her or her from him?
Why cross the fatal space within to reach out to another?
How does one dare defy the woozy loss of gravity, the clopen plunge headlong into a maelstrom mix of apprehension, frozen dread, unconquerable fear, that chilling fright… but for a thrilling shudder of frisson prevailing overall… the sharp desire, inexorable itch for unfelt touching, fresh contact, exhilarating interaction… made aware…?
To stretch our ego boundaries, extend the core parameters and let another in… wherefore to plumb the iceberg’s tip, create collusive hollows, portioned craters, yielded yearnings, shared imaginings, and private hum-a hum-a cavities converging on the intimate… must give us pause indeed……!
Whilst still amidst the iffy superficial stage of forging a conjoint connection, common commonality of mutual communion, knotted union, coupled fusion, binding bond of self to self, one can yet retreat therefrom, resist the dark appeal, skirt not its rimming brimming edges, fan not fantasies, excite no expectations, rouse not hopes or stir up hankerings, accede to horse sense, prudence, heed the admonitions not to leap— for wise, oh wise!, are all these caveats, Look Out!, Beware!, Thin Ice!, Keep Back!, On Guard!, and, Caution— Danger Zone!, ah yes!, ’tis true!… for in that soleful merging who can judge what kind of kinship might emerge… from soulful, wholeful, gratifying, satisfying, to a sighing crying dying dolefully disastrous end…?
Then, surging out of someplace veiled, there comes that single rudimentary tingle— sager gumption’s green alert?— an urging, telling us we mustn’t waste this arbitrary chance of such a precious prospect for new ties, nor opt for mere security, accommodation, numbing singularity, no soul to bare one’s soul to… and premonishing not to make a pact precipitant to live with less than we’ve allowed ourselves to dream, because that want of wanting want will never ever give us any peace, serenity, repose, nor rest worth coveting… but, rather, maybe even keen regret, embittering our close…
So, for that very reason, there are those who challenge this unknown of what or who may be… (e’er rifling their ‘rooms’)… endure the ill at ease, the throbs of wishing, wondering……… though only some…
Others won’t regroup.
…
Once I love someone… there’s something in me that can’t stop loving…… so I ought to be extremely careful who I love… I know that… but I’m not…… nor have I ever been…… I just love who I love… when the loving comes…… till something snaps inside…… and now I can’t afford to suffer setbacks anymore…… for a smattering of mattering………
What then is love? Can we count its ways? Big bang be it or slow grow going where it will? Effing ineffability making worlds whorl round the whole of us cursebless some versify beauty-truth its infatuate intercourses fuck its fickle heretostayness vampires fang it epic poets Beatrice it sonneteers sanctify adore it saints otherworldly forswear it nuns and monks abjure it psychotherapists try to cure it sociologists study it sages maxim it fantasists fairytale it artists archetype it composers score it lyricists stave it wits quip it drolls troll it parasites leech onto it deviants horrorstory it bacchantes spondaize all-we-need-is-love it buffs breed it cynics screw it in jocular jugular vein vestals avoid it virgins veer away from it celibates steer away from it the chaste red-shift from it pairs pair heteros hump homos and bi-s bugger bonk and ball duos shag matches mate twosomes make out couples copulate cleave sink in its hankypank helpmeet finesse fetter enslave doublebind symbiose misogynate philogynate viraginate suffocate complicate exploit pervert abuse throttle Jekyll-Hyde Beauty-Beast it most formulize formalize solemnify its spawning generate-degenerate procreations many merely befriend long live die kill fall for by it or just do it lovers love it.