i am light. i am night. i am writefuckingwrite.
take my bones, ******. take this skin, ******. HERE, take my name, ******, i
still. am. i still
am.

i still write. i write i write.
my ribs are ledger. they hold up my awe.
but my thoughts s p i l l
into the gut, where they churn hard.
my accidents birth cosmoses.
my self-hate wills supernovas.

i am not yours. i breathe, alone, i am being. unseen strings
strung from my fingertips: i manipulate gods.
i fear no god of yours. your book is finite. my writs are
i n f i n i t e.

feel the inside of my femur there you will find my fire calligraphic
it is rune i am ancient babble stone megalith cut from monolith i am

i, jus now, walked to the store to get some water
and - it's weird but - the sun
  hit
me: and, somehow, i felt
detach e  d no more;
one lit plane, arrayed
beneath my sandals

and walked my feet
along the woven pavement, which had
either come alive at that moment or
had always been so and i just never noticed it before.

but then, i felt

some weird s i d e inside of me grind
its bony armor, elide the light, and
glyph into existence, dark. it spoke; it wrote

me down. it captured me with an adroit hand. it
fed me lines. lines. lines. lines brighter than star proximal.

my insides stood divided.

i got home
and drank
the water: straight from
the jug.

we are not atoms in the dark
we are not Adam's in the garden
we are not Atman's in the seat of kosmos

we are adumbrated sound, found in this form;
light in the n o   w.

https://instagram.com/p/BAkux4WwJSn/

how does sea remember you?
the ebb recalls your flow

and also

your
toes

and how they
curl in the blue
matted sand and
twinkling saltwater foam

stars are weird
their light, to us,
spells utter darkness for them