June 2nd 2008, Silver Keys Data Log from #Irreality

Love is a singular point expanding outwards.
A paper crane for her brother in Luna,
In the soft purple light of the Tao; they do not foster themselves;
It is all gay smiles and imaginal fruits, lucid green.
I've never known any dead man after all,
Always been looking at the level of Yesod in the future,
Never passionately fondling the past.

You'll like the nineteen days of His breast,
And therein is a lapis set.
There is no moon to the right of the moon:
God was last seen 1 day ago,
Planting a bag of lunar cycles in the gardens.
Sun in Virgo and moon in the lapis, lapis in the moon.
We're suckling at her breasts for the blue milk.
(This can't even fucking exist.)

Lapis travels the lonely path of the lunar carnival,
Every night a patchwork song of visceral elements.
And I haven't had my moon in the lapis,
Defining symbolic structures to satisfy the
Discontentments of society and its sign is the Lion.
Night of the aleph to light the path.
Continue with this devotion and
We will put the moon to bed,
Set her on fire in a bevy of blossoms.
On fire in the aleph of the moon.

-Ceilede/Lapis + Nameless Operators