My favorite part of the year so far was when you laid three soft kisses behind my ear as I stumbled into consciousness rapt in your limbs.
- any revelation or disclosure; an unveiling
- a disaster resulting in drastic, irreversible damage to human society or the environment, esp. on a global scale; a cataclysm
Everything is strange and I have not been able to believe what my life has become. I am exaltive and overwhelmed.
<Fecundity> and <Wantonness>
the city lifts you on a bicycle
and the wind! The wind on your rich lips!
our eyes alight with tempest
your visage now lost to the crowd
(penned partially in Zagreb May 2016)
“I’m on vacation”
Why must so much of life be convalescent? What is it that we are all so desperate to recover from? Our childhoods? The weight of the life we’ve built?
Is it not possible to enjoy all of our time in this wildly beautiful world? In what grevious reality must our everyday lives be so dull as for us to desire an escape from them?!
We set out on the high road amidst mesas and clouds of overpowering majesty. Between us was a loaf of homemade Peruvian Corn Bread which we tore apart with our teeth. We spoke about the rapidity of changes in perception and the urgency of examining one’s own consciousness. After slogging through a musty thrift store, she found high waisted black velvet pants. We arrived at the river full throated; pantsless and suspended we swam, hugged the sky, and kissed the mesas. Our fingers traced whorls beneath the currents. Bliss.
My car jumped off of a wall – there was a moment of suspension before landing – the smell of exhaust and smoke and latex dusted airbag against my cheek and then the blur of the faces of kind passerbies. “Are you okay??” “Do you need a ride?!” “Are you okay?” My home lay bleeding, its nose in oncoming traffic. The police came. The man whose wall I’d smashed came. Everyone was civil and kind.
My friends pulled up, playing Lemonade, their car full of foil balloons. One of the balloons said “It’s a boy!” The tow truck pulled up, and its lights illuminated my shattered windshield. In another friend’s car we followed the tow-truck at a maddeningly slow pace.
I have good people all around me, but strangely that is no comfort. Although I have not had physical solidity for years, only now am I bereft of a home.
Today I am scorched tarmac and a vanilla sundae striped with caramel sauce and the cool orchids of the jungles of ecuador