Bellies.

One mountain.
Four pillars, forming a square.
In the center of the square, a triangle-
(this triangle you fed with your inability to feel all these years
stare at it, it will stare at you too, inside a vortex)
On top of the mountain, a lifeless mass.
(this mass, you named "God" and bestowed upon it the finger
the finger of a saint who used to be you,
but you're not- and you never were at all)
Next to this mass, an aquarium full of bees
forming bodies, future weddings

God is Truth
(a Truth that is true only till you learn that
nothing is true and everything is fake)
Bees are the Song. Their Honey is Perception.

Και τα δάχτυλα σου;
Ξερά σαν την έρημο που είναι πλέον η καρδιά σου;
Ή γεμάτα μέλι και τσιμπήματα- σημάδια του ότι νιώθεις.

Θα γνωρίσεις το Θεό;
Ή απλά θα τραγουδήσεις;