:::prose from the beach in february:::

i can see Orion in August.
i feel humidity tangling my hair,
pulling it as a lover, and holding fast.
i feel naked sinking into deep wet sand.
i take Orion in a breath...
can my breath push against the oceans endless whisper?
perhaps the oceans whisper is a rage,
a passion...
could this breath i exhale...
can it reach the heavens by incidental experiment,
and in doing so make light from darkness?
with this breath i sing sweet and pure
i touch my body and i know that it is a corpse,
i take spirit and thought and exhale
in doing so i kiss Orion and a truth is revealed,
this makes me alive, transcendent and clean.
everything i have, take now...
everything i would want, i cannot bear to think of....
i need nothing save this peace, stillness,
and a mouth upon mine,
take this insipid life,
turn it out with your breath
and let go...
the dreams drift lazily back down from the heavens,
from Orion's bow they were cast,
to heal? to make true? to discover...
within our hearts they lie down
and remain
in August
now i see.

:::amber.hart.sinclair:::