While seeing deep patterns
beneath my legal battles,
I do imagine solid objects
within multidimensional abstractions.

To me, it's not just written rules,
nor structural hierarchies set by law.
Behind the shutters of my restless eyes,
the code of law is not defined by words.

Beyond plain texts,
there's monolithic bodies—
I'll watch them play within my poems.

It is a synesthesia of some sort—
between cognition and my oddly twisted mind it helps to navigate my way around.

And so, the flow of my eclectic thoughts
will liquidify sensory loads
before creations get diffused
across the output(s) of chaotic self.

No more, no more—
please don't sustain the flow.
It's my synesthesia of some sort.
Don't stop the flow, just let it flow.

Synesthesia