※21 November, 2011

http://endofmarch.tumblr.com/post/13097189102/my-mind-is-a-whirlpool-and-i-am-water-elusive-and

My mind is a whirlpool and I am water, elusive and slippery. Endless circles of thoughts, feelings, and fears. A perfect storm. Keep slipping from between my fingers, with no firm grip on my self. Scattered, and everywhere, flowing away, stretching along the days, relentlessly. I have no ground. And if I think I can hold all of my currents inside my self, all contained within my ribcage (in a salt water pool with even tides and a sailboat beside my heart), I find there are always small leaks behind my ears or between my toes or at the corners of my eyes.
But winter is coming, I can feel it in the air, hear her name on the wind. I am waiting for the cold. The solidity and sureness of gleaming, strong ice. To become my own iceberg (and still that ship anchored beside my right ventricle, and the call of selkies under my lungs, safe and contained and calm).
I am waiting for my self to freeze.

Infinite

I am the wind and the wind is invisible, all the leaves tremble but I am invisible, blackbird over the dark field but I am invisible, what fills the balloon and what it moves through, knot without rope, bloom without flower, galloping without the horse, the spirit of the thing without the thing, location without dimension, without a within, song without throat, word without ink, wingless flight, dark boat in the dark night, shine without light, pure velocity, as the hammer is a hammer when it hits the nail and the nail is a nail when it meets the wood and the invisible table begins to appear out of mind, pure mind, out of nothing, pure thinking, hand of the mind, hand of the emperor, arm of the empire, void and vessel, sheath and shear, and wider, and deeper, more vast, more sure, through silence, through darkness, a vector, a violence, and even farther, and even worse, between, before, behind, and under, and even stronger, and even further, beyond form, beyond number, I labor, I lumber, I fumble forward through the valley as winter, as water, a shift in the river, I mist and frost, flexible and elastic to the task, a fountain of gravity, space curves around me, I thirst, I hunger, I spark, I burn, force and field, force and counterforce, agent and agency, push to your pull, parabola of will, massless mass and formless form, dreamless dream and nameless name, intent and rapturous, rare and inevitable, I am the thing that is hurtling towards you

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