Your gaze is a speculative reality,
A gradual from an unknown monastery.
Zerodimensionally, it perforates air,
Opening without opening somewhere very.
Disease me. Be for me as I am your disease,
Sack the City of God with love-dysentery.
Their conference, even on the moon, leaves all unchanged;
Professing, they forget to practice, heresy.
Outside opens from within, making all woman,
Whoring world perfectly like the Virgin Mary.
Inside opens from without, manning everything,
Erecting it as infinite commentary.
Nicola's vision crashes right through the windshield,
Thrown by distracting eyes, a fresh fatality.