pneuma

Make it in a river.

Bring gossamer bring ice and glitter pressed into neat squares

bring a piano,

one for steeping and another for sliding on.

We are going to make a cocoa butter for the exhaustion i cannot run from.

that is, a love from small bits of yellow, from the angel blue that stains a tongue after

singing.

We will turn music into a kind of balm it isn’t already.

Grab your loose lavender, the canvas you painted over, stamps

Grab the lip skin you bit off your mouth because of me and my grinnin,

your thin scarves, the scarves I wish to keep for soaking the butter love into,

for wafting messages into your nose while you tune into class

Before you walk into the river play the piano.

I sing you to me, and you will play my return

to all the places i hide to when I’ve got the time.

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To create a consistency you must remember motion,

even if it is only back and forth, head to toes you must remain flowing for the

cocoa butter love

For the swells and retreating rising and waning

Motion here brings heat that does not become greedy,

this motion in this river will not fall into cocoa butter unless gently pushed

Pushed how notes do through ivory…

Keep warm. In hand under wrist between knee under chest

Keep warm

In mouth by neck through hair strands and next to nails

Dig your toes though this river silt and radiate for me

Store this pearled love in tree trunks, flower stems and under your tongue

In Smooth, growing, loving places.

Open, and open, and open even further still,

This is how the fear is unlearned from the body, from the river,

It will show you your reflection and this is the chance to pronounce yourself enough,

To bring soft water to chin and cheeks

Slip stones in your soaked shorts pocket and rub the smoothness into your psyche

(Written August 3, 2020)

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"that is, a love from small bits of yellow, from the angel blue that stains a tongue after singing."