( written upside down ) ( 1:43 am )
desire — ache
breath as substrate. i read about this
process of quantum entanglement
that happens when particles touch.
how does god move? can particles be
there and inside me — all at the same…
yes this one moment. the timeless hum
of Love seeking Love.
{ listening to: D 92 8:50 P.M. // jim perkins, leah kardos }
a story overtakes. the witness
witnessing herself. who is she?
a violin weeps. the willow
grows new branches, new leaves.
fiction.
does it always hit you like this?
love, aching. a tremor. your toes tingle. the space between your shoulderblades, where you’ve never been able to breathe — opens — a moan escapes. sentence fragments.
~~~
what if letters are just art on a page, sprawled in golden ink, deep, radiant.
for years i painted only pictures with gold wandering through them. taylor swift sings of an invisible thread. they’re the same, aren’t they? angel numbers everywhere. black crows. dark black. darker than usual. eight brown rabbits. 1 black cat (2 yesterday). two spiders landed on my index finger and started their threads. connection. writing. a game of association
{what was the question?}
allow the mind to wander and the body to speak.
brings you back to the point — always.
what did alan watts say about the point? oh yes. the greek word for sin means “to miss the point” and the point is here, now, this breath, this moment.
{ listening to: the light // the album leaf }
i hear your voice telling me don’t waste words.
i’m thinking more clearly. not like everything is clean and pretty but like i’m thinking clear through. bloodletting. i get it. i weep. another willow gets new leaves.
quantum entanglement.
how do we meet?
my chest opens and my lips buzz. i lick them. palm between breasts. it’s always a hand that does it. grounds me. i am here. i am real. your words move me limb by limb. one word. a few sentences. that voice note where you said, damn, woman.
you echo
good. good. good.
i throb.
~~~
things i want to tell you:
i’m writing and my characters have different handwriting.
my hand is moving yet i am not the one writing
somehow our stories zipped together two universes.
once i had a dream i was dancing in horizonless space, carrying swaths of opalescent spacetime in my hands, rearranging it in soft folds and uninvented geometries.
~~~
is this what love is? have i ever known it?
{ listening to: i promise // alex kozobolis }
what would a course in miracles say?
as i walked earlier i thought i slink through the world like a jaguar. that’s when one of the spiders landed on me, as i played with the branch of a willow tree. you were on my mind.
if mind is substance and breath is substrate and my opening is portal. if love is the way. if i take a deep breath and let my head rest on the indigo velvet pillow — if you placed your hand on my neck in just the right way, your fingers straddling my collarbones. your breath whispering heavy into my skin.
i could go on forever like this.
my nipples harden like you wrote it.
do you really want to be inside my head? yours is a maze, you say. mine, too.
here it is, okay? are you listening?
i want to talk to you about everything and you say something i can’t remember but i feel it just beneath the surface. what is it you said? it feels important. like a weight.
oh yes. you’re not forgotten.
and you are heavy in my chest.
and then, i am the main character. witnessing quantum entanglement.
{ held // balmorhea }
touch one strand and the whole web quivers. i read somewhere is a place called the garden of cosmic speculation. they say it’s in scotland, but i’m sure it rests between my legs.
{ angela undress // thomas newman }
recognition. my heart breaks.
Love seeking Love seeking
quantum entanglement.
something is humming
breath as substrate
desire —
ache desire
— ache.
particles ache to reunite with their cosmic counterparts.
join me in the entanglement.
This is it all
The wind blown threads of the spider in its web tangle then entangle sending vibrations out across the web alerting every spider.