When I was a child
my mother lived
just by the edge of our country
After the edge there was water,
and on very clear days,
a silhouette of something
past the horizon
could be seen
We gave it cryptic names
Turned it into a kingdom
of dysfunctional
royal family members
In our shared fabrications
the royal family were fantastical,
crooked beings, they wore
rag-like clothes,
really ill-fitting cycling shorts
and moth-eaten t-shirts
Their make-up couldn’t stick
to their face
so an eye shadow would easily
become a tear
North of our house
were ice sheets
that formed their own
sovereignty
At 21.30
I crush a pinch of poppy seeds
and sprinkle them over
a cup of warm water
If I feel festive
I add a teaspoon of honey
By 22 I’m asleep,
to let my subconscious take pleasure
in four of the most productive hours of the day
these four hours could be described
with the scenery of the road sweepers
that clean up the remnants
after the closing hours of an amusement park
During these hours I’m elsewhere,
gliding through landscapes
while the frequent hum of machines
take possession of my muscles
For the remaining 4 hours of my sleep
I enter a lighter state,
I glide into a more apprehensive mode
this is where I’m able to see myself
levitating from my body
A coy moment, a moment of play,
as I ease back to my awake life
There is departure and return,
beginnings and ends
and in between there are two separate lives
In my sleep,
I feel like I dream things into infinity
When I’m awake
I learn to systematize and structure,
I study and write
I tune into her thoughts,
and we explore these things together
We exist side by side as this happens,
and our hearts melt into one,
heartbeat at the time
my even heart pace,
deep asleep, calms her
But recently I’ve become aware of something different
as I’ve transitioned into our shared fabric
It’s a shift in tone,
her voice carries a sub-narrative
that I haven’t been informed of
It’s so subtle, and at first I was just convinced
it had to do with me
Was I too cold to participate?
The more I’d started to spend time with her,
the more I’d come to understand
that the zones she traveled through were mnemonic
it was a technology to store memories,
and to access them again
Sometimes I would walk next to her
for a long time
until she’d become aware of my presence
that would give me the benefit of observing her
After she’d welcomed me in,
this was more difficult
as we became one
My routine is dear to me,
shoot me!
I’ve come to rely on routines
In the absence of external
and seasonal change
At first the adherence to routine
prompted a sense of memory loss,
as I’ve taught my memories
to accompany the patterns
of seasonal and cyclical
metamorphosis
then I found a mnemonic routine
As I like doing from time to time,
I went to see my neighbor yesterday,
one of few left in our street
She invited me to relax on her sofa,
with her cat
playing with the paper wraps
from an old hamburger,
and asked if I’d eaten
as I looked boney
gazing at my body
as trying to pierce through all my layers
I’d twined myself with
My neighbor’s apartment was right above
the former McDonald’s shop
and as desperation does to people,
she’d recently abandoned her
nutritional ideologies
for frozen burgers
from her former in-house butcher
She said she was tired,
couldn’t make plans ahead any longer
and no crops
would grow at this temperature
Even the greenhouse
that she had built
was too cold
and the glass was starting to break
Regulated temperature is fine,
when you know things on the outside are shifting,
but I can’t find myself breaking from my lethargy,
she said and asked me a third time
if I was sure I didn’t want something
After we’d shared a strong drink
we said goodbye,
embracing one another
She asked if I was sure
I didn’t want to spend the night?
Despite my yearn for another body
I returned home to fall asleep
at my regular hour
Knowing that I’d need to be somewhere
within the hour
all that is called world is ungraspable
you cannot retouch it
you need to erase it
to rebuild it
She writes portraits
Or rather
she has found someone
who writes them for her
She considers herself a compiler of assets
Her collaborator could be
compared to an archivist
Someone who analyses content
It was no easy task to find someone
suitable
for the extent of her documentation
Sometimes she asks herself,
why recompose something so compostable
as the memory of someone?
When you miss someone,
what is it, you miss about them?
An image, a picture?
Where in your presence do they reside
when you forget about them?
The way they look at you when they ask;
should I get you a coffee?
Their voice on the other line,
breaking up through a weak connection,
telling you they are on their way,
and the way they smell
when they come pick you up from your work
Waiting outside,
the way they look
at the people passing by
and the passers by
gaze on them
How they speak
to someone over the counter
You lock eyes,
for the first time
How did they feel the first time you touched?
The way they get dressed,
asking for your opinion,
what color suits them the best?
The way they undress
How they fold their clothes
after they’ve been washed
Open the fridge, open a window,
ask for a lighter, gaze at something odd,
in the periphery of your shared frame
Is it the way they touch you
when they try to reach you,
reach through you,
that stays
when everything else has departed?
<3 - 2023-12-29 13:36:28 - <3<333333
adolphus50@moneysquad.org - 2022-10-06 00:56:37 -
- 2022-10-06 00:56:37 -
adolphus50@moneysquad.org - 2022-10-06 00:56:35 -
joan14 - 2022-10-06 00:56:35 -
Developer - 2022-10-06 00:56:33 -
Developer - 2022-10-06 00:56:25 -
shannon_boyer@moneysquad.org - 2022-10-06 00:56:09 -
- 2022-10-06 00:56:08 -
shannon_boyer@moneysquad.org - 2022-10-06 00:56:06 -
joan14 - 2022-10-06 00:56:05 -
shannon_boyer@moneysquad.org - 2022-10-06 00:56:03 -
joan14 - 2022-10-06 00:55:57 -
118 Yundt Burg - 2022-10-06 00:51:14 -
- 2022-10-06 00:51:14 -
118 Yundt Burg - 2022-10-06 00:51:13 -
Suite 574 - 2022-10-06 00:51:12 -
118 Yundt Burg - 2022-10-06 00:51:11 -
Suite 574 - 2022-10-06 00:51:03 -
lonnie46 - 2022-10-06 00:50:45 -
- 2022-10-06 00:50:44 -
lonnie46 - 2022-10-06 00:50:43 -
nico.franecki@bdcimail.com - 2022-10-06 00:50:42 -
nico.franecki@bdcimail.com - 2022-10-06 00:50:40 -
lonnie46 - 2022-10-06 00:50:38 -
lonnie46 - 2022-10-06 00:50:21 -
- 2022-10-06 00:50:19 -
lonnie46 - 2022-10-06 00:50:17 -
baylee_harris@bdcimail.com - 2022-10-06 00:50:15 -
baylee_harris@bdcimail.com - 2022-10-06 00:50:13 -
lonnie46 - 2022-10-06 00:50:08 -
E - 2022-04-11 00:22:06 - so beautiful
- 2022-04-11 00:21:49 -
- 2022-04-11 00:20:38 -
*_* - 2022-03-31 12:01:05 - I love it!!