I have gone there . Slept in the sea , under the cracks of the stars , falling upwards , gripping dry sands slipping out in dust under my touch . The earth is rich , malleable , techne here . Desert leads to the channels of the stars . All mixed in .
Elemental combinations make alchemical tinctures :
I’ve drank each one of them & fallen through a rabbit’s hole , then to Neverland , back again , mirror on the wall looked nice , I fell through , and back again , I lie still , hot sea escapes my eyes , on this wooden floor . The stars are broken , I am falling into them , the smog is thick :
I inhale false airs , keep them in sticks tucked in my pockets , light them up to keep up the chase , to continue on through .
All of this is techne , eroticism , birth , creation .
I indulge in this feast : eat each one — strand of sea scum , stardust , salt and sand mix in .
to know the erotica of living in all of its senses —inner and outer I swim through
know the edges through touch , running my fingers along creased edges , enveloping myself inside , so that the I of myself is lost among the colours of the fabric — interwoven —
gone .
These experiences awake me . They shake me , so that afterwards I am left ,
spit out ,
desert sand again , salty lungs — and fall to sleep :
this rusty vessel needs oiling :
A blood snake moving through
corpse body
like rivers and stones
to sea ,
moving fast ,
I see not everything in tangles
but lines
leading through
echoes and river-ways of the external past — the elements are talking
to the womb of the world —
ocean floor :
extracting it out , strands out of a hallowed embrace , I stay
eyes closed —
tie knots to the stars
While Hephaestus forges it in copper .