so. this fine autumn afternoon finds me just turned 35 and in Nashville; sitting once again at my favourite table at one of my favourite haunts drinking some of the best coffee i know and finding my way back to the keys... stopping by way of this journal once more as if to practice sitting words cheek to jowl in sentences...
vintage clothing, mural painting with Sarah, conversations everywhere i turn, music on the stereo and staying in Julie's cabin are all weaving together and pulling at threads within me - drawing creativity back up and out... something that was beyond me these past few months is returning -- reawakening from coma that has felt not-so-much like apathy as inertia...
the penumbra of desire returns to enfold me as i keep vigil and a steady calm hold where all-too-often i've found myself spinning in longing and i yet still i find an honest passion walk back in like a long lost friend and wrench me into each new day with expectation... that oh so evocative feeling that one simple touch of lip on lip could birth bounty like the box lid being flung open once more...
it's a heady feeling to be alive on days like these... strange how heady is never so much a sensation of the mind at all but of all the body singing in want... it all feels so close to touch and yet not...
the space between is a thin place... i feel myself wanting to ease and ooze out of my pores... to drip from my own fingertips... to swallow and be swallowed... on that threshold where one can't tell if this is sinking or soaring... the desire for the liminal bothness of where i and you become this e-merge-ing iyou in spite of ourselves...
some things are beyond naming... and these days i'm not trying to do anything but sit with hands open as if receiving the fragile power of the eucharistic bread like a bird's nest...
no sudden moves. some moments in life might be for sliding into...
LB.
amen, and i so understand how this all feels.
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