Deeping infusion, trance inside it dances
I have lost the shape of kindly world; illusion is my existential-being,
freeing my landscape of petrified constraint,
I cannot hold myself together;
limbs become consonants,
explaining in the verbiage of oceanic current,
prolong the dance, infusion of narcotic, bening pretension,
there is a dance for ascension, a pretense for becoming the light,
I will not fight, my time has come; bring me thy peace,
illusion deprives the infusion of constant uprising.
It is in the most prolific way,
that I shall dance into eternity; infused with collusion
of my living poetry.
Anna Rozwadowska 2019