La Bouche

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walk-walking 

ambulating everywhere–

pitch-pitching, 

plummeting here,

hurt-hurtling there

with the quirking jerks–

the jerking quirks–

the spinning whirls 

whirling and twirls

that send me 

through fields of possibilities

and spasms that sometimes 

make me bleed from the head–

sometimes the eyes,

the ears,

the mouth–

and the heart

instead.

 

la bouche

bouching,

the masticate

masticating,

the French

frenching,

the kiss

kissing,

the touch

touching–

gaping maw

mawing,

chewing us up–

spitting us out. 

 

mouthful of electricity

coursing forcibly

through my nerves

of their own volition–

will willing 

to reconstruct structures

in accord accordingly

to the will wilfully

construct-structing and building 

itself from the inside out.

 

downloading the sight 

of blind seeing,

the sound of mute 

singing,

and lame-winging it

joyfully, boisterously,

buoyantly, and 

 

Light

 

cascading down 

my raw hollow nerves,

bouncing from particle

to particle,

pinballing, wheeling,

twisting, reeling,

stalking shadows–

a luminous lantern 

casting sunlight 

 

in pirouetting rotations,

waving oscillations 

orbiting, spiraling ‘round

spineless spines–

vining vines vining,

twining through

the vastest lies vasting–

digest-gesting,

feasting, reclining like swine.

the bigger the inclines–

the greater the equines

needed to jump them,

 

bursting through the clouds

and through the third of my ears,

the third of my eyes,

and into the warm-

honeyed embrace

that shines from a heart

ruptured from the corruption 

of fear and despair,

cushioned by the lullabies

of blinking lights that shine

on the cities below– 

 

refine-fining, defy-fying 

virtual realities

into solid states 

that blink in

and out of the abyss.