the illicitness of self-love,
lives beyond the privy of logic,
the solicitation of language,
and the comprehension of sensibility.
self-love has it own impressionability means,
well beyond what recognition implies.
feel has a sense of reading the brail,
while the mind stares at the imprinting.
self-love has no language base to author.
it knows of the hypocrisy of the spoken word.
self-love seeks a truer means of essence and display.
sounds good has to make the heavens within ring,
not just the inner-say being self heard.
self-love doesn't have a hard copy of right or wrong.
self-love is an endless river inwardly pouring forth,
not looking for large hard rocks of self imposition,
or beaver dams of personalized idioms of despair.
self-love defies logic of over-simplifications.
self-love is capable of undulations,
that are otherwise inconceivable.
paradigms that sink deep within the darkness
and travel far breathlessly forward in carriage,
that brings together the family of un-imaginables
in their secreted internal hide-aways.
self-love accepts no imposters and their posings.
self-love absorbs the headaches, the heartbreaks,
the hindrances and the hassles of delving.
self-love is creatively ruthless in its presence.
cares-for from essence bound deliverance,
that no mindfulness can measure,
and always creative,
beyond the medium consciously addressed.
the illicitness of self-love is beauty before identified,
drawnness before definiteness is observed.
illicitness is a sweet song,
soulfully sung.
when spirit is the enterprise,
as a resourcefulness, undertaken . . .
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