don’t we need to make sure we have a reason, an excuse, an alibi, when the light comes on? don’t we make sure we have it all lined up just right? isn’t it too scary to just live and be and not be justified or righteous, to not be ascending perhaps, or maybe even not learning? isn’t life just too big for organisms that wander and float like mold, like spores, like smoke, like snow, like light? i hope not because that’s me. me and you. legs and arms flung so wide our skin cracks over our windpainted teeth, flying through our lives sneaking extra gulps of air and screaming all the way down. delight, delighted to meet you, delighted to fling myself into you like ocean on rocks. happy to rise tides with you. delighted to brine and foam with you, delighted to seagull scream with you. so nice to be warming sand with you. the way the steam filters the light, it’s sort of like a dream, isn’t it? but we know it’s not a dream. because if this were a dream, that would mean we don’t even yet know what being alive is like.
here’s how it goes. beginning: you had one and if nobody took notes, fake it. make one up. it’s the same thing anyway. middle, put the big things on top. it’s the opposite of what you’ll wish you did later, but that’s what the middle is for. at the end, say it all made sense. laugh and cry because you know whether it did or not, nothing changes. on the way? run your fingers over and under and across everything. and if you forget all you know, keep those memories close. the way the world feels under your fingers, in your hand, against your skin, close to your chest, in your mouth. these things are more important than people would have you know. we are, after all, a holy place, the very first church that ever was.
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