what it is

There is death and pain and love and beauty everywhere.
I can hear our fingers feverishly dancing
across the cosmic keyboard
writing history and the future all at once
while the here and now carves
primordial symbols into our flesh.
Simultaneously brand new and ancient.
It leaves grit under the nails and spices under the tongue.
I can feel your tears falling down my cheeks
while I sing you a song I don’t remember learning
its melody written across my bones.
I see a relative in you.
Your face looks like my grandmother
or maybe a bear or an oak tree.
It’s all the same.
Both the pain and ecstasy sing us to life
the many threads that weave the fabric
of our existence.
Let me metabolize some of this grief with you.
Let me give the depth of my love to you.
I see that inner spark
the flame that dances and flickers
like the sun in your belly
leaving sparkling embers
after it burns everything else away.
Our bodies look godlike
as we dance and pulsate
stretching and expanding
slithering out of old skins.
Shiny and new.
Seasoned and timeless.
Holding many truths at once
and leaving some space in between
for all the questions that may never have
an answer.

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