I want to find the lungs of the earth and curl on its pink bottom
So that I can rest to the sound of calm, soft wheeze and fall asleep pretending to ride the backs of low hills. I'd stay there for nine months to develop language, so that when I ask the earth a question, I'd be able to translate the wind gust and the crackle of dirt. When I become fluent, we'd have conversations. Discuss our journeys and tell it that I envision my path with curves, like still movement tracing the motions of my hips rotating seconds into the future. Maybe if it isn't a sensitive subject, I'd ask, How long is the past? How deep is the present? With a ruler, can I measure the distance of my penetration into the now and not now of the present? Can I count the inches back to the beginning black, when black was fresh and new...always? I can imagine my palms pressing onto the side of my head to stop the throbbing but instead my heart beat will be as loud as a ticker and harmonized with the earth's breathing. With a long pause I'd say, I know one day I'll decompose and we'll make love in the dirty soil but will it be as sweet and passionate as you want it to be? Will I penetrate so deep so that you'd never forget? Will my children, the air and the living things that surround and surpass them always remember?
So that I can rest to the sound of calm, soft wheeze and fall asleep pretending to ride the backs of low hills. I'd stay there for nine months to develop language, so that when I ask the earth a question, I'd be able to translate the wind gust and the crackle of dirt. When I become fluent, we'd have conversations. Discuss our journeys and tell it that I envision my path with curves, like still movement tracing the motions of my hips rotating seconds into the future. Maybe if it isn't a sensitive subject, I'd ask, How long is the past? How deep is the present? With a ruler, can I measure the distance of my penetration into the now and not now of the present? Can I count the inches back to the beginning black, when black was fresh and new...always? I can imagine my palms pressing onto the side of my head to stop the throbbing but instead my heart beat will be as loud as a ticker and harmonized with the earth's breathing. With a long pause I'd say, I know one day I'll decompose and we'll make love in the dirty soil but will it be as sweet and passionate as you want it to be? Will I penetrate so deep so that you'd never forget? Will my children, the air and the living things that surround and surpass them always remember?
