I M E

Giordano Bruno 1548-1600

Before the fructification of the Tellus within

become the other planet in the primordial darkness...

oh, translucent skeleton, your sumptuous gift annuls in the ravishing sun of creativity... he, who emanating to impress, contorts to convert the Iris of the Moon in your Eye... We are but an ocean alone lodged deep into the dark and empty spaces inbetween... ah, Bardo Thodol, let's listen...