i was born when the nothingness had grown weary of my absence called upon to blunder through mortality's purpose
swollen like a pufferfish in a pond of mercury
so gorgeous everything’s okay.
after that, i was born again but not from love’s Freudian vendetta with eternity.
but from an organic siege of my previous incarnation,
born from a wound in the guitar buried in the garden.
i never leave anywhere the same as not being there actually.
i absolutely almost there
at all..