Friday, November 16, 2012

Open Up

Open up and smell the rain. It is coming. 
Soon the clouds will topple over with accumulated sweet tears and I will be there to drink it in. I will have my pearl goblet embellished in skulls and teeth and the sweetness of sky will move through me, turning me from flesh to air. 
Open up and smell the coming rain. Open up and let the walls of your chest creak, they will make a joyful noise and sing with mine as we stumble into awakening.
Like rusty doors in long forgotten castles, the sound is wild and out of place. Now is the moment to take the scuffed up brass skeleton key from the old woolen pocket. It is time to twist, yes, with a shaky hand, and let the gates crack. 
Open up and smell the rain.  It comes as a gift without words and explanation. The scent of night moves towards us in lustful abandon, coming with its sweet tears. Clouds full of wetness sweep in covering us in newness.
Now take this knife, make perfect slits along the length of our single piece of okra. The glue on our fingers will bind us to the walls and from time to time we can hang from the ceiling and look at the world like geckos.
Or you can take the form of a purple goddess and travel among the trees like the wind. There are no obstructions as purple scented air. You move wildly through thickets of oak leaves, sending a torrent of them to the ground.  You bash against the boughs, bouncing and twisting over shapes and continue forward.  Perhaps these things will eventually slow you down, all these rocks and faces of matter, but for now you roll over them as purple scented air. 
Or you can dance ecstatically without form, picking up pollen and dispersing it over fields and houses.  Twisting, twisting, you bend the clouds into mermaids and smiling paintbrushes, an entire canvas of sky all orange and red and glowing. 
Or you can lie down and become gold grass.  Feel the skinny white roots slowly digging into the soil, pushing so softly past the tiny bugs dwelling in the folds of pungent earth.  Feel the sun turning to food on your delicate upturned blades.  Can you feel the green of your flesh? 
Open up and smell the rain.  The clouds are colliding and soon we will be droplets once again.   Gold is the sky as we take the form of clouds, there are no obstructions as we take new shape.

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