i wish that i could read braille
so that i could read whatever
your body writes when
your skin rises
when the wind brushes against you.
I wonder what Kurt would say
about his flannel
on the floor of your corporate store.
that we dance.
We, who embrace life with every cell,
skin, yes, just skin.
It is vital research, to capture the essence of humanity,
The ness of being here,
Like chemists in the lab
we spill together
the words, and phrases, and narratives.
Reactionary actions of those around us.
Producing compounded matter to analyze,
To twirl around, flipped and switched 360degrees,
the results, of which, cause chemical bonds to appear
Swiftly enveloping each participating party,
tangents between two.
Something, please, define us, together, as one.
But then, just the same, formula is broken,
opened, dissected, and split,
a subsequent perversion, the reversing version.
What does it mean to question what is, in order to create that,
which may not actually be?
That which was, in order to be again?
This, defined as that,
lives within us, among us.
Awaiting to be awoken by swift shifts.
Movements, which mouths cannot fake.
Gestures, which bodies live to make.