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.
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.