Something about the way
The world reads into an Orgasm.
Tying it with earthly bonds,
when it is actually a moment
of unreal peace.

Is the mysticism
in the way you dance?
Or is it in the movement,
when you move like the breeze?
The dance of two souls
Together, in a union,
Inseparable, the rhythm,
Of pure pleasure,
Of spirit, of mind.

Bodies are made of earth.
Minds, of light.
Pure, white light.
An Orgasm is a journey
Into this light.

Shun the worthless poetry,
Ridicule the Free Poet.
But inside you,
You know of what I speak.

It is not about actions anymore,
It is about thoughts.
Whirls of colors,
Language, only eyes can speak.
Language, only eyes can understand.
And the lips curve into a smile.

A beautiful smile,
An acceptance.
And the air isolates
Two souls in love.
Air between them
But cannot separate them
In spirit.

A beautiful smile.
An acceptance.
No words exchanged.
Wind speaks of colors
Of passion and understanding.

The next level
is just a journey.
A high, experienced
by the Consciousness.

In a world
where only two souls exist,
the brightest light
from the brightest sun
is the purest form
of Vision.
When both see,
See through each other.
Masks, clothes lie forgotten.
Naked, by mind.

And a single note
is now a symphony.
A Carnival
of deepest confidence.

And it's dawn.
The world is back to haunt.
They were, but for a moment,
living in themselves.
Bounded to each other
in an Orgasm.

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