An invocation for my stay in the home

here I alight upon my knees
on soft and unsullied soil
beseech the currents to convey me
to a space of peace and shelter
from carrying the weight of the world
just for a while

hold me for that while
in your shell, freshly hatched
seize the worlds cold breath
to keep me present
in variations
of being alive

I invoke my path
guided by my footsteps
the grid of rituals that keeps me
carefully aligned
amidst the decay of my time
so as dawn yawns and awakens,
I descend into my body and nourish myself with the fire, I let my mind be guided towards the thrill of only the moment, I grind coffee beans and water my cells, I sketch the outline of the day at hand, I speck myself into an endarkened dream, I sink into my legs and run, run, run, I find the kitchen with flavors, fibres and scents, I cherish a shower and good food at noon, I weave strings of signs and spills and symbols, I tend to tasks craving hands, I plunge into liberation from the corners of my mind, I visit the spaces of power, I consolidate reality through my tongue and my greed, I behold the musings of my hand trailing, trailing, trailing the word of you, I float into midnight, I systematically drift off at a stone, I keep myself carefully
set in the grid
guided by my footsteps
I invoke my path

I pray for the sensuous to surpass
my tangible sensitivity
the floor above the ceiling; a manually operated vacuum cleaner
in my mouth, sucking up waste electricity
of your nervous system
eternally grating in a soundless quivering rhythm
that will nurture my unsettled,
uncertain, unnecessary,
unportrayed wilderness

how will you aspire to my searching hands?

I summon the word
which is not mine, but yours
that it will drift out from its hiding places
in the cracks of your walls
to splash around in my inner ocean
indifferent as it drops from my hand
resounding emptiness, forbidden, superficial,
overly romantic, bewildered, minuscule,
battered and damned, befucked
a deep sea nettle towards the surface for light
unsuitable for living, loving
but breathing
transformed into a mirror ball
then into a dewdrop on a doorknob of your front door
a dripping faucet, an old radio crackling,
unspeakable, unsaid
my mother humming from somewhere nearby, unheard
obtained by the soundscape stretching time
back into clotty letters and blistering bits
unaligned, disrupted
all because I strive to see you as you are
read you as you are
nothing less
nothing more than the word
you let me hold

I summon my primary, invoke my authenticity
oppose spurious temptations without struggle
clasp onto my delicate flame
insisting on its connectedness, my heart
I stand firm in my sincerity, my inherence
alone, with ancient souls by my side

I invoke purpose
I pray for walking backwards
I pray for your trust in me


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