3. Alula

A thought,

held for a breath,

then —

lips part,

it drifts

shifting

light on saltwater.

Time amiss, slipping

between the dancers,

dissolves

into expanding rooms.

I was here.

Was here.

Am here.

now.

The now.

The only

without end.

Neon green

lasers ticking, flicking, flying.

Bikini strings not expecting

such a long night.

Not the kind they frame, they name, they measure, something deeper, beneath skin, beneath bone, beneath breath.

Not a body, not a trend, not aging, not anything they can hold, or tie down.

Wisdom in the rain

or spit.

The fungi’s soft, silent kingdom.
A whole universe inside my viscerals.

can’t catch it. It floats off as I float in.

But Beauty, is the Love, reflected back.
what can not be absorbed because it is already satiated.

The spinnings

of cotton candy and the truth

stays long after they have whispered

their particles of sacred poetry into my heart.

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