You Are a Soul, Too
There are times
when everyone feels so alone
that there are no butterflies
no pits in your stomach
lumps in your throat
there is only this
there is only you
In these moments
we learn to see
when there is nothing
to anchor us to home
when there is no one
dreams are faceless
the spaces between your fingers long for more
than the whistling wind that rushes through
rustling your hair, with no one to kiss the scent
In this emptiness
there is nothing
to hold us down
We finally become who we are
On our own
And it is beautiful
There wasn't much that I could do
when you swallowed Jupiter whole.
You were already lost in a laundry
machine of waste,
When I found you,
I saw the phantoms in your eyes.
I saw you were waiting,
with the patience of a predator,
lurking in the shadows of your eyes.
In one glistening glassy eyeball,
I saw the spider web of veins,
catching, when you wish to be caught.
I saw the entrails of your soul dredged up
to help you find what you had forgotten,
I hear the tribal chants of something calling
to you. But I can't hear them for you.
I can count the vertebrae on your spinal cord,
I can tap out different melodies on the bone,
flip through the cartilage like records on a shelf,
in a store, like a connected stream of segments.
When we withdraw it is unclear, whether you,
or I is truth, the other, a paltry reflection.
We continue to court each other like a panther,
and its shadow. Only one can lead, one is falling
behind. You think to delve in is to understand
But what you know is a frame for something you
have not measured, which upon exploring deeply,
should only confuse you more. If you seek it the
I can see the phantoms in your eyes, in you.
I understand and know them because it was
I who placed them there with a seed.
For me, listen to the rush of blood in capillaries.