How does it feel
when I touch her?
I don’t need to know this.
I won’t know it.
Not in this stalemate of
Heaven on hold.
Though I felt it on her,
her body on top of my fingers,
the whole of her force.
Yes, I want to know.
Does she feel
what my brain feels inside;
raw madness,
imagination alive
and birth and bloom of
some concept
burning neurons
blurring self
between earthling and
right before,
raw body.
I’m melting.

We’re headed down the
West Coast,
someday in the future.

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