Blacken Up Yoursoul

Last night, I cried at the thought of unconditional love,
because—well, what a concept!
What does it even mean?

No hair ever in place,
No string ever hanging from a sweater,
No eyelashes lost without a special wish.
No body to even look at,
No parts to decide if you should mate.

Just plain, naked,
vulnerable auras that float and search for each other
among the nebulae of colors
across this
endless ocean-space of souls.

The temperature is cold
and “relationships,” do not exist there.
Only the soul colors that mix with another exist.
Once you mix, you are never the same.
I hope you mix more than once,
because pieces of others fill you up.
The goal is to become the blackest soul.

Take as much as the others give you and learn
and thrive.
You can say white is light,
but I’d disagree.
White is the absence of experience.
Blacken up yoursoul.

Mundane tasks will stir you…
Shake yoursoul till you feel
every part of it filled with color.
Trust me, let the love overwhelm you.

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