I tilt my head back and celebrate through lamentation all things past and to pass – it sounds like wailing to my ears and it feels like laughter. Cut in two by a brilliant light around which the universe also turns, I feel everything draw back like the hand of a child and with a trembling smile, I whisper, again and again, in audacity – in relief: I love.
I hope you never have to know the marvel of sunlight through the parting clouds – it arrives and clutches something heavy and I know everything at once in cycles, like all the past and future are folded into a singularity and re-expanding in deep, fluttering breaths.
The covered sun is a little cloying, but it seems it’s the proper medium to play to the rhythms of the world around me. Music set to metronomic thoughts, the needle on a record – the harmonies of conflict: