It has come to my attention that I am seemingly so stretched, the translucency of my emotional skin allowing for an unhindered view of all inner workings and I have pulled myself so far, that I’m coming apart at metaphysical seams, the parts no longer functioning as a whole but categorizing their import to the task at hand and it’s an oddly disconnected sense of being connected to all parts of me, breathing in intent and information, digesting and dispensing, bringing it all into focus with a shift in lens and inherent ocular perspective and I think my colours are far richer for this bodily invasion, the world outside only serving to fertilize me marrow deep, extremities pushed to extremes in this near-heretical pursuit for happiness and hallowed ground and a harbor from the storm and I can feel the fever in my blood, the rush to anticipate the creative flush that stimulates and simulates the passions that only body to body contacts can replicate, and there’s a lifting of weight in even the weightiest parts of me, my breasts and hips thrust forward proclaiming pugilist defiance, my mouth tasting all the new sounds and sights, tongue moving greedily over page and pore as though I can feel all this newness dissolve in a swirl of psychotropic phantasmagoria and it’s gone so far beyond skin deep, bone deep, soul deep, it is buried so far inside of me that it’s almost removed entirely from the entity that I finally bear no enmity, I have made peace with the pieces of me that though shattered, fragmented, bruised, battered and bandaged, are beautiful and burgeoning and blindingly brilliant for all their awkward fumblings and competent undressings, I am sleek with good hunting and I move sinuously through the dark underbrush of your subconscious seeking to probe the very nature of this beast that I’ve unleashed and though I left off the better angels of my nature so very long ago, I am still that generous incarnation of rib and ripe fecundity, second only to none but side by side with all, I will throw off whatever ravages time has etched into face and form and though you’ll never see it coming, you’ll never forget it once it’s gone.

03/26/2008

Author's Note: All things blossom in their time, and so too shall my labors bear fruit, my body ripen and my mind unfurl to all manner of promise and possibility.

Posted on 03/27/2008
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