You've been filling both Heaven and Earth;
You have been upon an eye's lashes.
Searching for You is not being in transit
To holy site, ocean, or mountain.
Taking and making room in a mental niche,
My psyche You have brightened,
Giving subsistence, splendor, bliss,[1]
Surging with a happy thrill.
Other than You I can't think of aught else, not a mote;
In front and behind, ideation moves like a ghost...
Wherever one will go, it had been both high and low,
Distinctions ignored, with falsehood assimilated.
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It all comes down to one and zero.
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