Immaculate Consciousness

Surrounded by immaculate-white walls, looking at an immaculate-white page with an immaculate mind and an impeccable heart, as at the purity of beginning of whatever may be born: a vision, a face, a form, a memory—a poem. My tentacles clench upon the walls— the walls of my mind, as an octopus beneath the water in its swimming, trying to embrace the immateriality. Mind—Water: fathomless fluid fluctuation, slippery as the thoughts from a thought-forming mind: it does not know itself; it does not know how it functions—but it functions, as the aquatic currents of consciousness, cradled in a continuous vibration. I choose and I shape my wishes: impalpable, but most substantial; as images in a dream which shape reality; I am haunted by these images of my own creation: — elusive, but mine! I embrace their emotions in my solar plexus, as a current of life spreading throughout my being wishing to materialise it; as love formed from vision, as a slightly touch of hand... or...lips...a kiss... a key...unlocking the portal of unconsciousness: I am at the edge...there, embracing myself, and waiting for your embrace.