joy abounds, the joy of death, a familiar death. my breath slows to stillness, i’m falling. i watch her dancing in my flesh, the dance of the living. my borrowed breath, now a memory. yes, i know her touch well, cupping my skull in her hands, as i die again. my body shakes, sweats, drips and slips through the forest as a breeze, breathed in.
i am again exhaled into being, in an elevator unhinged, unaffixed, in my father’s midst, we are falling. he asks, what are you afraid of? i don’t have the breath to answer. shit, i’m falling again, and this time it comes quickly, crystals drifting in ether, but there’s no bottom. no landing, only crossings. even he had to go. a black crystal pyramid slowly falling, rotating, remembering, tearing at the seams. he knew his time to die was coming.
in a day’s time we’ll gather a midnight, call in the ancestors. protector of souls, we willfully drink from your stream, this fiery blessed stream, changing in we, yes we, what it means to make meaning, to get lost in the act of seeing, of being and becoming. the sky is better wet with void, ineffable, inexplicable joy. my head still rests, cupped in her hands of love, on these sands of mars. this glowing dirt is evidence of enlightened worms burrowing in my mind, sowing seeds of confusion, the good kind of confusion. to be unborn free.