a wonder. a healer. a poet. a listener of some things. a search. a question. an ask. a dancer. a trope. afraidy cat. a painter a reader a player a seer a seeker. a breather. a liar. i breathe. so my fingers type fast now and where am i? what is here? i perceive myself to believe in something that is close to peace. it is partly peace. it is flow. i perceive my self to be a savage dilettante who will not gain enough practice to master one thing. this is also flow. my life learns and things flow. some story gets told and then i change it. life merges with life matter moving and mapping light on universal dark and that which is not only peace, it is flow.
flow turns dust
from nights
grown on heights.
i believe in simultaneity. and yes, i believe in story. though i know that nothing i believe or story is actually me. i also see i am what i believe myself to be. so how is it not me?
given that we change our beliefs thoughts and emotions, perhaps we change a story to believe our divinity.
fuck moaning high
on a scaffolding
i was certainly
listening
my only response was
what i could see
i wanted to sing
throat unleashed
and up went my voice
low on a fling.
look god she sings.
god heard and turned to his
and said look god and god saw me,
sat there on a swing
on a throne
and the wandering
light-sphered planets
turned me into
my own.
excerpt “matter” wip 2018
image: “neck” detail, wip. acrylic and sharpie