I want to always sleep beneath the weight
Of your soul. I want to never have the knowledge of being naked.
I want to run without breathing.
I want to greet the sea and the sea’s mother,
Space. I want a mouth full of cigarette smoke.
I want you to feel that i am just as beautiful and fleeting. If the wind has the advantage of existing through everything and with nothing,
I want to step across fall leaves without a sound.
I want to welcome you home, without you feeling the strangeness of my presence.
I want to exist with you
And when apart miss you. I want to lose myself
In low-hanging and unmoving fog. I want to lose
My physical form and have you never miss it.
I want to be the smoke in the fog.
I want to lose my vessel
With infinite possibility of folding in
And with infinite possibility of expanding out.
I want the freedom of infinite and invisible of movement.
I want my nerves to enclose around you.
I want to feel every inch of you.
And I want you to be obvious to my touch.
I want to be the moon you see in the pitch of night. I want to be the crescent and the whole.
I want to be your everything and Nothing.
I want to be the still and clear pool of water,
But not the mirror. I do not want to be the tree.
I do not want to be the book or the fading family
Album of pictures. When I leave this body, Woman, I want to be limitless smoke.
I want to be your breath.
Greatly inspired by Terrance Hayes's Wind in a Box