Jan. 26th. 2024

space is silence spent in years of wanting

growing only to resent the body which is now my home,

the choices that are something of a life.

I own only this face marred by biological baggage- but that’s all I may take of my mother and father.

They told me I would miss being young but not that I was dematerializing in that space

which forms the background to real life, the buzz in the city of other dreams. Gettting smaller in the purgatory of still wanting.

and finding that the apex of pleasure is in the rare ability to see in front and not ahead or a sparkle of wonder captured by my daily mantra

don’t forget

my fathers laugh and sisters childhood lisp, or that second of small sweetness of yesterday which is only now

slipping again

I want almost nothing anymore but to break off whatever I can give and offer it all to the lives

which brought me further from me into their beautiful arms

away from space