Ghosts of ourselves everywhere
Like this one standing next to me standing next to you
Some indeterminate thing you can't help but fixate on from time to time.
His name is the same as mine
His gestures too, all save for the way he dances
My flesh bones and marrow have never danced quite the way he dances.
I am asleep while he is awake
We take turns looking out for lighthouses casting glances
Out beyond the four corners while the others chat about our livelihood.
Now and then another spirit emerges
To give rest to my wakefulness or activity to lure me away from sleep
Or simply to nod and shake heads and banter with the first
About the gods, about the sky, about the earth
About being mortal
Some of them had such imaginations
About all those itchy things a body could not bear to broach.
Published by Richard Q
A human being-question chasing after both God and nothingness. The internet is a disaster, but our starlessness might teach us something. I welcome our constant experimenting with ourselves with open arms, for ultimately they are attempts of life at living and growing in life. My dwelling is in Key West, while the dwellings of my loves are Indiana, New Mexico, Texas, Massachusetts and Arizona. These spaces are nothing. Love abides and love embraces.
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Love the Dust 