Like little pieces of a mirror or a painting on glass
falling down, through the dark
I watch my self dis-aggregate.

Each colored piece sighs as it passes by
And I feel a feeling associated with it.

Into an empty hollow, or a neverness, an openness
They are not the same, but the feeling is ever changing.

Until I find the bottom, which is void.

A freedom.
A release.

And there is a supporting movement, an energy, which holds me
as I do this.

A wave I know as love.