Justin Stone's creekbed

songs, prayers, poetry, stories, art, photographs, moving pictures, fondnesses, tall-tales and meditations

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Location: missouri, el paso

The Anterior Insula and Hwy W

Monday, February 14, 2011

the body told you
but you weren't listening

more, she told you
but you weren't listening

you'd noise on mind,
a thousand little dream of fish,
and you missed the fever gathering in chest,
the coming chills
like sea-borne shivers






underneath

you had to map and know

every square foot of ocean

on a planet covered almost entirely in ocean

and when you were almost done

you forgot all you knew

and had to start over

you had to map and know

every square foot of ocean

on a planet covered almost entirely in ocean

and when you were almost done

you forgot all you knew

and had to start over

you had to map and know

every square foot of ocean

on a planet covered almost entirely in ocean

and when you were almost done

you forgot all you knew

and had to start over






'i want out of this...'


'i want out of this...'















reaching hands reaching

a room to cross
and your legs long

but you can't move

to her

reaching hands reaching






her voice and hands
her body's warmth a dream...

'mira, mira,' she said...
'there be eyes in your head...
there be instinct
borne of your chest...'








to be un-cold...
unafraid...












when you came to
you were soaked through

a thousand years old
and alone

breath
like a baby

you could see and hear
everything all at once


and love,
you are not alone