received instruction, piece.

what received instruction fails to teach us
is that it is possible to escape flesh
that if we leaned back,
back more, and gasp-second
as the chair falls off its last leg,
we will fall out of our bodies.

we will be boundless from ourselves,
free to dream-fall, though eyes 2-inch wide

we will re-enter earth under no false pretenses
hatched from wombs
of half a dozen nearly silent she-vessels
on their steady voyages to Middle.

dawn, sweet collection, dawn.
and lift hands to your cool, alabaster face.
the longest should be directed to 3/3.

you’ll scoff. i’ve seen it.
but trust your hands and it will be.

- from a place of yes.  

at some point, you feel your body trying to escape your body,
as if moving upward, a skeleton lighter than the blood-air surrounding it.
it breaches,
separates from its flesh tomb
to be cold, naked, and piercingly stung
before our sun and our god.