Fern Goddess Waves In Breeze

just generally vague, wispish sorts of dialogue, presenting the strange vivacity of the alien lifestyle. throw in a little jack daniels and the syrupy residual attack of the words leaves you gaping open to the sound of what you do not know. extraterrestrial whispering down to the ears, push the hair around, ring crafted slopes, enwrapped within yourself sits the jewel vibration, stone which causes the waves to move in its after-path. the music reaches into you, let’s dance together, get away from standing against the wall and burst sweaty into open, crowded space, where things brush into each other, move together, move apart, together, and generally interact.

Jack realized that there was no need to feel ashamed. just himself acting instinctively. he is where he is, moving into something he is not.

Jill fell down the hill like water to catch him, and they trickled side by side until they rushed into each other and fell fell fell into themselves before they ever departed again for the sky droplets coalescing. ocean mother child, we are family.

Aint no point to pretend to feel nothing. something’s goin on. pay attention and stop thinking about how you look on satellite tv camera pictures. we are meant to be here, if we are here. i have arrived. you have landed. open the doors and les greet formally and then probe and press and get to the truth of the reality by putting on the masks of each other. glove habits of every day slipping over our naked souls, quiet darkness of our solitude holding each other into the eternity of this moment. shared life, rosebud opening into smell, unfolding glowing colour, life that clouds the scenery in the sun with its beauty.

Nothing nothing nothing. I feel so good, so good so good. I am scared. I don’t know what is going on. I don’t know who I am, I don’t know where I am going. The rush of empty space and the stars wavering eternally changing.
Nothing is set.

And you. the bleeding of the moon calling to sleep remembrance. the pain of renewal. pyre burning birth like a pair of lungs moving contrapuntal to the embrace of balance, swaying to wind.

Lets be ourselves together, with nothing.
Lets be ourselves together, with nothing.
Lets be ourselves together, with nothing.


Author: manderson

I live in NYC.

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