Monday, May 1, 2017

Conditioning and Free Will

Conditionality of your love is exploding under my fingers,
under one of my potential hands.
What took place goes forward and returns.
Fear and my back against the wall
I hear voices deafened by my attempts,
somewhere in the distance,
gliding over the edge,
inviting the banality.
Identification and its number.
Components and they're for me.
I'm standing on a stair, on a relative elevation,
And mute everything, rowing with a low tone.
The full scope and the end.
Everything what's happening 
is crashing against my recultancy to be here.

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