. Once in a hall of summer on a sticky floor rolling roaring with laughter and beaming smiles shouting into air as air . Climbing all those steps knocking at the stones front door “it’s only me, let me come in” Carpeted floors in hallways the corners inhabited…
// from echos across honeycomb floors of the cityhall: half-cut planets your eyes an orbit from pupil to the lines around your mouth open i miss your touch your tongue shapes experiences you sense like mints dear child you transform every tip, joint and toe points a different direction rolling…
Walking through heather and fern onto a mountain hill Laying on a bed of stones they press into my body from different angles Placing a hand on my stomach and wonder where your stone is placed Finding a puce rock weightless filled with pores…
here by the window I die a little quietly every sunset with a cigarette in my right hand this is where I meet with my restless, my anxious, my lonely, my most volnurable the soft spot my breath refuses to reach if it was not for the smoke…
The sun and the moon converse: “If I told you that I miss you would you know what I want?” the moon whispered and the sun glowing as a sun does listened “can you see my colours though you are so bright?” the moon continued and with warmth the sun…
waking up with shattered glass in my eyes a frosted stomach a piece of the heart darkened a beautifully pierced shadow and the night still lingering laying in a gigant ocean-bed of infinite fleshy pounding hearts that will bloom with time …
To You that was it. So our We-space ends. I sit with the rest, trying to make sense. Questions to the World. Questions to myself ( empty all dried up hanging in thin air like dropped suspended frozen, left behind ) From here: Where to turn… How… CAN I connect?
I have spent several nights here by myself at the house. The contrast between day and night in this place is striking. The daytime offers a breathtaking beauty, and I enjoy my time here so much, particularly in the garden. However, when night falls, fear takes hold of me, and…
With my eyes closed… sensing. Stomach, heart and taste buds getting ready. The beginning of a smile in my hips, and the touch of the air on my lips anticipate the sweet taste of here and now.
After each visit I wonder how to bring your knowledge overseas, closer to my home. How to even begin to explain what I experienced, wrap into words what should be touched, inhaled, felt through the pores of the skin. Minutes stretching to infinities while sipping tea with a little spoon…