Contact
Read in the Templum 6 May, 2023 before a social performance in which about twenty people communicated through the waxed paper surface of the Templum via the heat in their hands, an infinite intimacy.
Inside the trembling
There is truth
I always want it to be about something
Stuck in story, again.
I went here
I learned this
I thought this meant that
The relearning is more than a flesh wound
And the raised and swollen
Limb of my hidden heart
Hides
I used to build armour
I used to be a chameleon
I used to work to be less of who I was
In case whoever that is
Is just too
Unpalletable.
I used to wonder
I used to worry
But when I step inside
Something happens
Something beyond the stuck
Something beyond the story
I drew you in the air
You stood on your own
Shivering
I ran my hands over your bones
They chattered, and needed support, and time, and permission
To be twisted
From the before times
As we passed our hands over you, you enfleshed
And rose
Silent
And open
And forgiving
The walls spun
The celing spun
The form made no sense
But was the only sense
The bones of your limbs reaching willfuly, nonsensically as your skin pulled itself in
The light came through
The room was full of hands
There were new hands, hands teaching hands
But I was lost
Adrift in the current of fasciae repair
Om purnamadah purnamidam purnat purnamudachyate purnasya purnamadaya purnamevavashisyate
Om purnamadah purnamidam purnat purnamudachyate purnasya purnamadaya purnamevavashisyate
As I tear your skin
And heal you again
Relentlessly
You rise
As your ragged edges reach for more, skin thickens, thins, wears
You breathe
Its not about the story. We are beyond the narrative now, swallowed whole inside myself
Or yourself
Its unclear
The longer I’m in here, the more it feels like cold nights in Moab
Some burnt cheeks, tired legs, chapped lips, whisky, dope, the fire
And you
Trapped in the infininte intimacy of another night under the secret blanket of open air, endless inky sky, and winking lights I fall through the cold
And beyond desire
And even hope
And land in a place not made of stone at all
Enfleshed, arisen, other
and I lay down and know its beyond language. Its beyond knowing. It is beyond sharing, even
So what I bring to you is this.
CONTACT.