deeper than deep

let it be all you know

Humming entropy. You
don’t make sense according to stories
I’ve been telling. Where did I find this dream?
Days spend wondering when I’d feel the fruits of mystery.
A dark man in a crowded room approaches my perch of aloneness,
makes me forget how to speak in complete sentences.

You in my periphery.
You appear, touching pains I thought irrelevant.
This emptiness, sweetened.
My fingers mending tension with pressure and breath and focus.
Waiting. Wanting more
openness.
Mindless affirmations of beauty flood my optical nerves.
Sentences write themselves as (I) observe.

Last night I shared a poem with you, just before another
poured through my fingertips.

I must learn to trust love again,
after cruel men and reckless giving.
I must trust the way trees trust their leaves turning red
and falling from heaven is just one death of the infinite.

I’m not trying to say anything.
I’m just showing you how it is.

There are no wrong feelings.

For a while I tried to be rational,
but I’d much rather monetize beautiful nonsense
than settle for unbending structural prisons.

There is this space in the back my heart,
thick, dark molten,
that needs your hands upon it.
You touched it when you were showing me
how to spread my wings on that metal machine.
I need your hands around my ribs
— whatever is fluttering within
begs
for kisses so sweet they might kill me.

Will you help me
lay to rest this restlessness?
Consume me.
I want to be enveloped in your presence,
wrapped so close in strength that even my bones rest.
Take my flesh.
Desire my fullness
and know
I will give you all of it.

You say you want the floodgates open?
Here. I’ve unlatched the wrought iron guardians of my heartspace.
Terror comes. Despair. All I’ve been avoiding.
This.
Wanting.

I cannot help but feel god in a man.
You, exalted, inform my sphere of consciousness.
Which is to say,
you expand where I’m willing to open.

It doesn’t matter to me
whether everything is mind stuff
or some other thing.
Though, how could it be?
It’s all a matter of
form and formless
nestling into textured colors and
invisible threads humming with
the current of aliveness.

If you want to go deep,
relax everything and let it happen.
Become a channel of wonder and mystery.
Revel in the feeling as it reveals itself
through pen and ink and the complexity of your coffee
and the way your nails bleed the color of
desire you’re enchanted with.

Do you know where your heart is?
The cosmic preponderance weights heavy and weightless,
evident in every leaf of every tree and the way the breeze rolls in
when you exhale deeper than deep. In the way
there is no conclusion except for this:
Feel what is.
Let it be all you know
as long as it exists.
Then,
release it.

thank you for reading serpentine spine…
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