all web
all weft, warp
all woven
in why whistling
underwind
& winding back as if to
tie you to its
waving
& away from
what you thought
known of who you
were
connective tissue
& movement
Tag: shift
tonal shift
who leans to listen
Above a consecrated ground still wet with our new dead, a cloud of witnesses rise, beholding. What warnings, unheeded, echo now. They turn the earth again, by sighing wind, to find the moment’s tear and mend it back to here.
Ore
What time is now?
The dream of power: to become time, to embody its abstractions and the way it will not be destroyed. If it is possible to become what is eaten, power eats time, to tune the instrument of its incessant hunger to construct, demolish, form; it needs concrete, mortar, beams, bodies; to crush stone, bones, flesh––and does so, until time itself is called into question and the countdown begins.
*
Notes while reading Achille Mbembe’s Brutalism.
Amphibious
soul on watch
Heart turns on the timing of frog’s cry, to catch the light falling through leaves.
These Times
Beat drop
The fabric that had held us had been thinning for several seasons. When it gave way, the rhythm changed, and we dropped. We had moved into another time, adjacent to the one we had been in. No one said, we are in another time now. It just happened. One layer pulls back, revealing something of an entirely different texture contained within the form. Neither did we ask, are we something else now, too? But of course, we were. As creatures of time, we felt its shifts within us, in our blood attuned to each one, the waves and tides of us, keeping what held us until it did not.