I'm making writing every day. I'm making
sense of love and love of sense. I'm loving
making, being senseless, sensing being
beyond writing. I'm making singing every
night. I'm making night a singing silence.
I'm silently awake and loudly sleeping
lucidly. I'm dreaming of a poetry
that isn't written, I'm making a turning
verse that is reversed. I'm making lines
and words that evoke images of the sacred
and ridiculous mystery. I'm a nonsense
fiction in a library. I'm making writing
every day. I'm making nothing when
I write or sing or make or dream or sense.
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