Feel me in the way you walk down a southern path
The shape of your soul turns in me slowly in a bath,
Hand me in your pocket warm to holding w/i a fold
That fernweh way of dreaming aching its fool's gold
Our far-off places, we've never, in a word have been,
From a vanishing shore, an ache, a pain a whirlwind
We have never touched, pull out, from the unknown
Muscle memory, our imagination, in an undergrown
When all is lost undiscovered I still worship god you
Part of us in a fog, the other part, in an untamed blue
Keep going to the flowing in us--a deeper in the way,
Expand a horizon, past knowing you more each day,
The ghost of what we were, a shift, a quiet widening
Sometimes something breaks in us, opens up to sing.
Mar 23
Mar 23, 2026 at 9:10 AM UTC
Feel me in the way you walk down a southern path
The shape of your soul turns in me slowly in a bath,
Hand me in your pocket warm to holding w/i a fold
That fernweh way of dreaming aching its fool's gold
Our far-off places, we've never, in a word have been,
From a vanishing shore, an ache, a pain a whirlwind
We have never touched, pull out, from the unknown
Muscle memory, our imagination, in an undergrown
When all is lost undiscovered I still worship god you
Part of us in a fog, the other part, in an untamed blue
Keep going to the flowing in us--a deeper in the way,
Expand a horizon, past knowing you more each day,
The ghost of what we were, a shift, a quiet widening
Sometimes something breaks in us, opens up to sing.
There is always something more, just there, beyond our reach, it seems to me, even when we take our last breath dying on the shore, there you are with a touch, a kiss, a hold me in the world to never be, and then I move around the words, add a definition, what will we be flowing in the sea.
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