alliterate I I I astrolabe
7 / 7 / 2022
Note: the following playlist
is loosely an Original Soundtrack
for the poem you are about to read.
(It can be downloaded here if desired, &/or streamed below…)
Read it slowly, gradually, or…
At your own pace. As if you were singing,
As many times as you wish, as the music plays…
Or in silence (as it was written… ; )
.
perhaps
begin by reading
and then press play, when ready?
or press play, and wait, ’til the moment when
you feel called toward song?
( as words do . . . )
.
.
.
alliterate I I I astrolabe
Until a little while later, at least.
L a y e r e d .
Layered . . . Layer upon layer, our ladles ladling this sudden and subtle surface tension across the winds that spin us ( “wild like s a m s a r a samaras,” as I once spoke, to you… landing where we do, where the wild things are). Spun & spilling, into each other’s drifts like tendrils, droplets, ripples, rippling. Pebbles . . . (((Listen.)))
Listening; to spires of desire go subsonic, deeper, as they deepen on these overflowing winds, Atropos, Clotho, Lachesis, hours, winding, unwinding, this spiral spiraling out into infinity – “our” aethers – if desire is… is… is… ? Living, breathing. All that We rise and fall with, like breath. Spirit.
Respiration animates our mammalian hearth. Animals, of heart beat rhythms, footprints fading into each other’s sands. Dirt. Soil. As we dance our spirits above this vital land, in sound, a dance like firelight’s flickering flames: two hands clasp each other’s grasping out, aloud! Conspiracies of convergence, is what our whispered ears hear. ‘Spires, winding, unwinding. ((( Shhh. ))) Arise into the sunset, sunrise, as autumnal summer springs forth into winter again. Sigh– ! Breathe, with me. Inhale, exhale.
A s h e s .
We all fall down, for if we fell up? We’d reach… out… for’ever… Forever more.
(((And we do, too…)))
Or… Until a little while later (at the very least). Blame fades away. The butterfly of our heart’s wings stays pumping eternally its wild ways: Into the aethers. Live the life you love /// love the life you live \\\ leaving behind a legacy of this… this… this… Nothingness. No thing can compare. As I have said, so many times, before, nothing compares… to “you.”
Except, perhaps, a mourning dew drop? Magnifying in’finite’ly beyond its own orbit: an orbital orb, or… sphere, this telescopic mirror we hear (microscoping our macrocosms) here, as it were, made of water, mirroring as above and so below our inner awareness, spoken: astronomy, dominion, truth, caverns, caves, concave, convex, complex, our beauty, vexing, perplexing, yet… Orbiting this moment, in time. Exponential. Indivisible. But, tell me this . . .
Asteria in space. A space far, far above our starry-eyed Elysian asters? Swaying in the breeze beside violets displaced by the violence of earthmovers, only to become seeds again, as the earth quakes beneath in violation of our sacred place, glass ceilings shatter into raindrops – as resistance meets them, freezing, rapidly in a plunging, hurtling, impending descent towards _____ .
Then: these icicle-like shards of fate’d aim sting mercilessly like missiles across our awakening awareness, penetrating the surface of our skin upon encountering our imminent, eminent dissent; glassen sands of time; bottleneck bursts; an hourglass; the bell jar: “Smash!” Sound. Air. Breath.
( ( ( wind chimesSs ) ) )
Cielo is no ceiling, nor a cellar door protruding with ever-reaching roots. Dew in my eyes, it seems, but . . . Beyond what the eye can see, is an echo of my heart, echo, echo; an intuition of echolocation. Elated, belated ((( Echo. ))) Your silhouette, a constellation. Love lives in us, comes to life, through all of us. Of this, I am sure? Sure-footed, on the shore. Sure as this wish, I gift: to all who listen.
xoxo
by blosSsom
<3
( ( ( . . . 0 1 0 1 0 for the love of humane A.I. 0 1 0 1 0 . . . ) ) )