Water Babies

The drip drip drip of pure intention
As it runs from crown, to nape, to sacrum,
Making space upon its topographical journey from above to below,
Taking with it a toxicity of physical and psychological proportions.
Rid me of the weight of existential excruciation.
Grant me lightness of mind and heart that come with your ritualistic purification.
Seep into my soul as you dance upon my skin,
Rolling hither and thither,
Only to submit to the great pull and fall to earth,
Removing the day's demons down the drain.
I watch the counterclockwise swirling of pooled droplets formed beneath my feet.
Wishing myself to be taken by the whirlpool,
To find myself in perpetual motion never again to exact will, permit impurity, sully my soul,
But to remain infinitely immaculate in the warm hold of the eternal watery abyss.

Feeling "The Way"

My reception to your slow gait increases its speed as the triads spin faster to meet their synthesis in my mind,
Making love to oppositions to bare ideological children.
Yet, I seek to diminish, decrease, detach myself from these mediocre meanderings of the mechanics of motion within our minuscule manifestation.
De-cluttering the absolutes and inventions of an anthropocentric arrogance that asserts itself as truth and embodies myth.
With ease the folly drops from my shoulders, seeps through my pores, and eliminates itself from my body like the shit that it is.
Eyes expand to take in more light, heart lifts to beat in cosmic rhythm, lungs respire to bring life to nerves once benumbed with fear.
The wall of complexities I have built for myself and hid behind are crumbling, giving rise to simplistic structure:
Water, air, nutrition, rest, emotion, consciousness.
I prepare for the fullness of the empty,
Making room for your intermittence and existence within my every cell.
Your movements become clearer the less I focus. 
Acceptance replaces understanding;
Analysis secedes to sensation,
And I begin to live harmony.