By R. Moores
Space, wind, trees
Breathe in while you can — _little one — _the worst is yet to come
Alone you are not safe, alone you are vulnerable to the void
At death: blackness, nothingness, empty and bleak
And then rest in the bosom of the earth
Your body holding your soul intact
Your sleeping survivor resting until the planetary son returns:
Adam — a perfected genetic being, tall and radiant,
purple light emanating timelessly
And then Eve — _a beautiful, erotic creature
Genetic perfection
These two plant a garden and create the extractors,
these are place above your tombs, and are powered by portals:
Inter-dimensional gateways sending you a new spiritual body to wake up and offer itself to your dormant soul
Now you awaken to all experiences of lives and incarnations before
A spiritual computer chip activates the finer, more ethereal body now possessed
Your old body surrenders fully to the energy of the universe mother, who devours it with reverence and joy
You float up, and up, and up
Away from Earth and on to your new perfected existence
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