Notes From the Abyss, 4

There is no time for Love, because there is no time in Love.

Love is what time strives to become,

before and after.

 

The Jetz-zeit is the moment of Love,

which is every moment,

and none.

 

There is no opposite of Love,

only all the time before

and all the time after.

 

You fear the future, you desire the past.

You desire the future, you fear the past.

And what is birthed between them?

 

“Dread is desire for what you fear,” said the existentialist, but he looked only one way.

Dread is also fear for what you desire.

 

Two powers, bright, heavy, warp the Abyss around them,

twins birthed from the moment of Love,

birthed into the moment before Love.

 

They pull, they desire.

The push, they fear.

 

Towards each other,

then flung way,

pulled back.

They fuck,

they fight.

 

Which is the dark, which is the light?

Not what you think.

 

 

Fear is the light, not the dark.

We light torches and candles and lamps against what we fear, to make it flee, to see what we cannot know.

 

Desire is the dark, not the light.

In shadow do things become touched, the crash in the darkened bedroom between two bodies, the stubbed toe against chair, the outreached hand towards the unseen familiar, the grasped cock and breast to bring the other closer.

 

You dread when you cannot desire more than you fear, running from what you’ve seen.

You dread when you cannot fear more than you desire, fleeing towards the thing approaching.

 

In your Abyss are two stars, within and without.

If they do not crash in their racing,

if they do not accelerate away in their repulsion,

they are caught,

orbiting,

unable to flee,

unable to become one.

 

But they do not orbit each other,

but around a third they birth together.

 

And from this springs the eternal moment,

the now moment,

the still-point

the Jetz-zeit,

before and after time,

the fire of creation,

the serpent and the crow

becoming one.

 

And from this is birthed the world.