The doorman checks our driver licenses.
After many years of incarnating back to earth,
in a magic night with magic synchronicity
Old enough to drive and drink in a bar, we met.
You blow a bubble from the tobacco.
I blow a bubble from the tobacco.
You lower down you neck to look for my rosy cheekbone.
I lift up my face to follow a mysterious silent attraction.
We open eyes and right in front of the mirrors of our souls,
We close our eyes to bathe into the micro-bubbles of kisses.
The past becomes remote, the future irrelevant.
We inhale and exhale silently,
The fragrance of the ecstatic present moment.
All the tension and pretension are completely released.
Like one million micro bubbles ascend and massage us,
Oh my love, this is our lover’s vows without words.
This is the scared silent song without sound.
This is what they call flowing amazing grace.
We become nothing and everything in shared hyperspace,
Staying long watching the sacred geometry fly in and out,
Above layers of wild-flower beds and its entangled aroma,
Below colorful clouds with rainbow spectrum and subtle hues.
We are ascended to almighty heaven by trance,
Returning back to the zero karma and trauma point.
We are healed by the microbubbles of love molecules,
Ever so gently merged by our sacred DNA.
In gratitude, in my lover’s body, mind and spirit,
Returning baby quality state, we are fully tumescent,
Like the two humans in Gustav Klimt’s “The Kiss.”