Work Text:
When you put all the sounds of the universe together,
Sometimes a light is born that paints new worlds.
Yes, when the sun unites with the moon, a star is born.
Then your own heartbeat is as loud as raindrops on Plexiglas.
As if it would jump out of your chest.
Breaking ribs, making room for a new one.
Bittersweet.
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Pain in the heart and a tingling sensation in the big toe. She didn’t know where to, where from, and why weekdays always happened in the same pattern . She wondered about clouds, heights and square kilometers. Wondered about rhyme structures, children’s souls and cotton-tip hats.
She wondered so much and always a bit more. She wanted to know and understand, wanted to dance with physics and walk with mathematics. She wanted a little more of everything, crisscross, not just the branch, then she would have missed the depth of the iceberg. She wanted to love, wanted to live, to turn and pass in the beginning of time.
Didn’t want to forget, didn’t want to eat too few good things.
All she wanted was a dozen through a third of it, the middle and just as much again. She wanted to see the colors of the rainbow, with all the shades in between. She wanted to drift, to rub and tussle and race with woodpeckers.
Everything she felt, … what she touched, saw and what happened … all that was called love, was devotion and sensation.
Was fresh.
Minerva was a beautiful feeling.
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Is loving overstated? Whenever she looked into her eyes and saw what was there, ... she wondered how Mother Earth had been able to create such a lovely being. She wondered how it had come about that they met, became attached, and never dared to be without each other again. They were like a mix of pink and dark gray with frills on the waistband and toxic gnomes in the front yard.
She laughed; laughed like a hyena, so loudly that she imagined people on the street staring up, wondering what was happening. An open window on the seventh floor behind nine three-quarters left. Cloud seven and much more. Should they hear it, outrage and blush. Should they envy and greed, lose up in themselves and their resentment.
But she, here on the seventh floor behind nine-and-a-quarter on the left … only wanted to love, not bend.
With her – only her.
Everything she felt, … what she touched, saw and what happened … all that was called love, was devotion and sensation.
Was warm.
Helene was a beautiful feeling.
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Emotional sound bowl.