mood sex, really?

I wanted to have mood sex.

it has no moving parts.

the physicality is non-relatable.

sure, there is breathing

and a physical presence, 

that is not distracting,

but otherwise total involvement.

it has its heighten-ness. 

evocatives happen if focus is broken.

declaratives rarely occur.

there is no bystander status possible.

it's all eventually vibratory, 

as experience would later account.

otherwise time disappears.

there is no edginess to this awareness.

living, otherwise upon reflection, seems superficial.

for there are other sides to pathos, 

besides conclusions.

honestly, there really is joyless joy,

but not experientially accountable.

the sex tag was only for eye-catching,

maybe just an intro-metaphore of seduction.

yes, it's all an emotional medium,

if one has to have words about it.

but, like in a river, 

in which drops talk amongst themselves,

the language is all in flow.

and viscosity is as real, 

as this love can get.

so now, it's all about mood,

no, not state of mind, as mood,

but the broadcast of beingness.

the unboundaried sense of a oneness

that can surface in a self, 

beyond any means of surrender.

it is a qualified sense of experience, 

that alters the method of experience permanently, 

adding a dimension that is otherwise unaccountable.

there is no going back to rational reductionism.

it is as if relational empathyism as consciousness.

it is not real in any traditional experiential sense,

just omni-contextual flow as one mind,

if that be a necessary fault, 

for the comfort of existence 

to be a consciousness in transcendence.

clearly this is not a thought world occupancy,

just as oceanic as feel could be, 

and yet be transitional, 

as needed to be expressed.

is this asking too much,

if I call this to mind?

maybe it's just dumb to yearn,

but I seem to have this calling . . .