your eyelash in my texas ( methods you cannot understand) 2017

i’m surrounded by the sleeping caterpillar movement
all in the midst of color bursting like honey
slow and crystallized in parts
hard like ice melting full mineralized
i wonder still about tonality and its final warning
a page to be turned
again
thats what makes them easy to believe
these beautiful creatures maturing
he said when they all gather it will be known
he calls moth from air and kisses powder from confused antennae
he moves hand quarter up her arm to where imagined sleeve fits
this is where christo sits
across the smile into the next plane
stumbling on wine and wide spreading mouth
this is where he is there and here
she is feminine and masculine
and human
and speck less
clear and speck less like safety and empty light
powerfully empty blinding dazzling light
she is the theme to picture booths and requiem
he is another struggle
twisting in suitcase
ready to move from fly strip
twisting against canvass and notation
the fight for tonality
is a fight for finality
a finished idea chased and strangled
with every progression and swing beat
with every added fifth and half
every other brush stroke is firmly hidden in pages refusing to be read
pages stuck in blank pale prophet hat
open the doors in your mouth
between teeth
between outlined and agreed upon reality
the chant of diem
nobody nobody nobody
ever lives on earth
nobody nobody nobody
ever lives on earth
this happens in the 5 second long breaths with face buried in shirt
the sweetest readjustment from smile to grasp
and breath drawn deeply then held
a personal and private codex painted heavy on arm
carried like shield into battle and ritual
painted on wrist and followed forever
to help me land on my feet he said
to recognize the twins
and closers
closer than that
closer
mere trumpets to full symphony then quiet beating drum
like her face
shaped like a heart
beating against the time without time
the first being
then time
without time
like that face raised like mountain ranges
thrown deeper into forested walks and singing
not sailing
singing
still a hurled attachment to tonality
some say
the caterpillars awaken in discernment
marked in discretion and detachment
marked and surrendered to
devotion to spiritualized self
some new knowledge drenched in an added plane
an added Bminor7
an added memory of wheat across naked palm
he that creates himself
reaches across thread counts
one raised eyebrow for vintage has to be true
sun salutations
endless in grasp
endless………….

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