Do you remember? Can you? Maybe it was just a moment. Maybe it was many. Sweaty bodies packed with instruments, clowns and wonder dust. Lose yourself in the stimuli. Tap into the harmonic. Heartmonic. Harmanic. Heartmanic. Which one is it again? Leopard print pants. Drawing with lipstick all over your…

  Epilogue Bumblebee’s Biography is elusive, does not seem to want to take a clear form. It feels like such a non-issue, in the here & now. An existence mostly (rather than a sequence of distinct events)… stretching over time, suspended in it, floating, flowing, continuous, undramatic… yet far from…

The Missing Touch. At a time, a star high above all of the others were overwhelmed by the beauty all around it. It shed a tear, and the teardrop fell straight down and was clear as a crystal. The teardrop had no edges, no sharp points, sides or corners on…

The holding hand is brought to life, when I lie on the ground and my only focus is to inhale and exhale, while I warm my heart and stomach with my hands. When I hold my hands on the same direct spot for a while, it feels like I’m hugging…

The Crack of Light will forever be a searcher. Wandering the dark surface of earth and finding cracks from beneath and above. Crack of light is stimulating the good and hopeful in all earthly creatures. Through a contrast of darkness he finds light and advocates others to approach it while…

° ° . An Alluviation of words ° unspoken ° ° I rive you . . if you let me ° ° and compose the sound of decay ° ° ° so you ° can spring . . . . . . TIMER

And today I dress my body green.  – Spread myself horizontal, between poles. Drawing in and in and in. re-cover-ing as an act of letting go to carry nothing and drink the flat silence into my toes.  – I tell you no.  – Fire (no longer spreading)

– If I said that I missed you,  – If I said that I still thought of you smiling across the rug peering down shrouded corridors between feathers bird seed or prints in soil – it would be true.  – – We always feel so different,  our unfamiliar ropes fingers…

. The house has never been so awake  only to sleep for a brief hour . . . The eyes by the gate planted a sunflower in the garden . . The cold days The rain pouring down a thunder created by You? . . The hot days Rays of…

sitting down to dinner we removed our skin and dared to look into the silence passed the illusion of flesh. a shining spirit clings to a skeleton their teeth chattering afraid of the dark / afraid of the light there is a distant piano chord and the teeth, ivory keys…