Untitled

25 hours ago my 2nd cousin whom I don't remember ever having had met shot himself in the head

23 hours ago I was dancing hard like there was nothing left that could be said

Notes on Language

The wind out amongst the fairies
seemed so much calmer on that night my love
they spoke less than I imagined they would and even that was none
they sang more than the seconds that go by without you and that can
only mean that there are presences out there that exist outside of time

that can only mean that if I can be aware
of the planet and weathers interaction with
these presences that there is somewhere
between the island and mainland
I can drift into and linger in the timelessness
it is this space that we share
whether you are beside me or not
whether I am dreaming or not
for these presences they are
not beyond our ability to converse with

in retrospect I come to see that in those dreams on those nights
we looked in on one another with such satisfaction we had no need
to visit the cosmos of the ocean the universe of the sea on those nights
when the full moon matched the glow of your skin the curve of your cheeks
I never knew that I did not know a single language to relay to you
a single breath with which to speak because the best conversations
between us came as suddenly then dissipated as 1/4 notes and steam
they are as real as deja vu yet to come
as real as our love to be I am currently dreaming

and so on those nights when the houses lights seem dimmer and the
wind blows calmer than it ever has before I will open my mouth in the cold
sing to you in languages that have never been written and are already lost
so that wherever in time it is that you are hiding
you will hear me...and follow

I am imitating your sounds with the waving of my hands
I am scribing your transmissions on my hips
I am studying the notes on language
and I am waiting

Pursing Bodies

And you take let us assume third toke long and slow
you vaporise and you take it in and in and in
and there is this point where the faces of the choir
fade of soft emerald green and there is this sinking
this sinking that thins like spinning wool
to the very point between finger tip and the rest
of the mind where a women let's call her Ruth
lets go and I am there in the emptiness
floating a single refracting sphere
reflecting the resonance of a face that
looks me straight in the fucking eyes
and in a voice of unrelinquished
hunger and justice just says run

and honestly through out all of my experimenting
all of my searching and studying I've come to the conclusion
that I'm just not too sure what else there is that I can do
so like Ruth told me in a dream I had nearly five years ago
I'll do the only thing that for all this time that I knew for sure to be true

I'll take whats left and what I want
and remind myself that that is all I need
the tools that I have they serve a purpose
a temple built outside of purity is a site of desecration
is not worth mentioning propagated and useless
my pockets are sewn with burgeoning seeds
cloth sacks heavy with earth and with every need
I'll press the hilt of the blade closer and closer
just to watch it gently slowly bleed
slit the throat of a thief called greed
and I am just now being hardened
and I am just now getting started

but I'm not quite sure what all of this is for
so I will burn out clean
and if you ever want to know
the last words of a dying man
you can find them in the mouths of babes
and let whatever comes that may
the memories of these things will burn away
clean
you can find them in the whispers of ash
that turn to butterflies and softly spindle off
you can find them in the foot prints of soot
where on that day I was looked straight in the eyes
and I said if there is an ounce of this that is
without truth you can kill me where I stand

and if you ever want to know
the last words of a dying man
you can find them in the mouths of babes

Collapsing Box

The mind is a cube
for it is always in it's simplest form
where it is needed the most

the heels of my palms are rivers
blue blooded and creasing connections
between us on the deepest frequency
these are the threads capable of meeting the dose

soft hands in an eggshell I had most deep inside myself
when I finally found it touched me true and I knew the beauty of the cube
for the very first time it hit me broken between the eyes punch drunk
off the fear that the only thing in life that is complicated
is the illusion of lies / there is always enough
to my arrestment the mind unfolds like a collapsing box
soft hands bloomed from an eggshell in front of me then
all was purple as dawn and pure as a river blue
at that moment I knew fireal I could never deny this truth

of the few lands I have seen and been lucky enough to lap up the coast
it was whatever ones that were underneath my feet
that became forest fires and taught me
to love my body in the heat of the roast
of all the muscles in me meant to build
from blinding speed until the sun dipped down to trip hop slow
it is the north encased in bone that allows this beat to swarm
of all the muscles in me meant to build /
it is my mind that I am proud of the most