Heel to toe
and toe to heel
where the feather-lined shore
meets the crystal ripples.

Saturated, sandy cuffs
of denim
seem like the most ridiculous
of concerns

when the rock face
is communicating with me.

When I,
a solitary animal,
combine my flesh
with the wind and
layers of the atmosphere.

Things that are usually wrong
become nothing
and things that are usually right
become irrelevant.

Words and perspectives
can’t catch onto me,
don’t latch onto my ribcage.

All of it free flows
through me

until boredom flings me
up and out
down and around.

I do bore easily

until the mould on the bricks
glow green
and the web stretching across
looks back at me.

I see the outlines of everything

and I know there is no such thing
as outside.

I infuse the best versions of everyone
to become the best version of me.

I own this entire place,
I put on a show for the celebration
as the headlights light my stage.

My inner children are held
for the frustrations they
drill into me

I scream them out of
the right corner of my mind
wrapped in the gentle blanket
of love and adoration.

Everything responds to me.

Everything is part of me.

I am free to be
any fucking thing
that I wish to be.

I orgasm the universe
through my nervous system
on my knees.

I lay my body down
among the trees
and cry at the sight
of the curvature
of the leaves.

They speak to me.

I try to conjure
the most perfect configuration
of molecules
that I have ever imagined

but I can only do it in my dreams

for now.

Maybe it’s closer
after the screams.

Maybe my heart burst
open when I realised
that I will now see

like this



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