To be a planarity’s dream. A

mid. Amidst ineffable singing                 trues an unconditional spring. Speleology or. And within we always find. Seeds. Emanations of new names. I whisper it into

nativeness. An opening or a mirroring

of arrows. Lullaby not meant to lull but

rocking by cull. Natural bilge. Lover, your lips still feel like soft clay.

~~~

A mandala

that etches itself into materiality. As radial radicality. Outspread         tide. Sweet ghost vagina, ensnare me toward additive

understandings. Never feminine nor masculine because         they are

qualities and not assumable gender relegations. For the sake of a homegrown interval of helms. A place for us to keep waving

the sewn stone in public.

~~~

~~~~~

j/j hastain is the author of several cross genre books including long past the presence of common (Say it with Stones Press) and trans-genre book libertine monk (Scrambler Press).