beneath this cloudless sky there is
nowhere to hide. the epitome of naked. motives are questioned. their
magnitude in relation to hearts. i trace the constellations in and
beyond my own flight path and wear the contradictions like a second
skin. i can teach you to read these maps; to listen to the gentle
thundering beneath your bones and the way the hallowed ground sings and
screams that love is the opposite of gravity. and i'll dance in your
palm when the moon is on fire warning of battles to come, where worlds
are tasted on blood stained teeth and the road of our spines all cracked
and worn leads back to where it all started. but let me ask you, if i
were to say "sacrifice is love made holy", with what would you reply?
and would i even understand? reading the pattern of your words, peeling
them back until red turns gold and drips and i start to wonder for how
long have you been wielding lightning bolts from your palms? and what of
these invisible walls? are we not gods? come closer...
morning is tinged with blue. im exhaling warm clouds and coming to the
realisation that this body isnt big enough for me to scratch the names
of all i love. i'm moving onto the walls. the already written pages.
making new maps. searching for the life behind eyes. even those whose
smiles cannot disguise their disenchantment. i worship the god in you.
all of you. in me. in the books and the trees and earth and i eat all
the rainbows. the strings of words one pearl at a time. until what?
until i reach the hearts and mouths from whence they came. and then?
nothing and everything. only the knowledge that my desire continues to
expand until i can no longer touch the edges. and you. carved in stone
made flesh forever standing in the centre of the storm. so do it just
because. because of the flower in my hair. the silver wing around my
neck. because the blue changes shade dependent on her mood. because the
wind blows through the house and rattles all the windows. because we are
all corners and curves. not one or the other. but both. or none. do it
mouth to mouth and break the skin. do it because im cannibalistic in my
desire for offerings of blood and guts. deeper than transparent things
like raindrops and tears. because there are only so many times you will
see the moon full. do it only completely when you feel it pressed hard
against your edges. a haunting or possession tightly held by ghostly
hands. do it because to not is to lose it. because i want to see my
by midnight lakes reflecting stars below and above it becomes
impossible to tell which way is up. once during a long lost night i
heard the wind, at least i think it was the wind, whisper my name. and
not even this name, but rather my real name. i am a
journey. a story. a circle. an ouroboros. harmony of asymmetry. so old i
am unable to tell you where i begin. contemplating cosmogony provokes
the longing to remember all of our explosions. reciting stories locked
in scars and chests where only angels dare to tread. both archer and
prey. i pray. i know not to whom, but i say thank you. alot. grateful
for having nothing and everything to learn. and LIFE. in which to leave
my map. my mark. my trail of meandering dirty footprints. i was here.