The sun is quite hot, but the sun inside is not.
There are many species of lust:
to emit light, and to receive it.
Desire refined loses its heat,
yet unknown lusts explode
when they are not satisfied.
The rejection of a desire
requires it to be chained,
just as the sun is chained
to the ever-growing sky.
Awash in white:
rivulets of milk that shower the soul,
cover the body,
and heal the soul with harmless fire.
For consciousness is a mother's milk,
enlightenment doubly so.
How can fire become milk?
Through the refinement of desire.
Milk fills all space,
and it is the attainment of it
that is desired
when one lusts for knowledge,
when one lusts for life,
when one lusts for anything in life.
The body is made of milk,
and the soul is Fire cooled by milk,
and Ice is when both Fire and milk disappear.
Yet I do not speak of a cow's milk,
but a mother's milk
as pure as a bleached veil
that covers the soul.
When people are conscious,
it is milk that they are conscious of,
milk the object of desire.
The Milky Way:
the place we are born into,
to obtain the milk
that sustains the universe.
All things that quench desire
and do not lead to death
are permutations of milk.
Money is the commodification of milk;
we seek different milks
to whet our appetite,
as we fall from notion to notion.
Milk cools fire.
Yes, milk cools desire.