This is the sound in my head, the mantra on my tongue when I need to breathe, when I need the pages of my mind to go blank.
as curse and prayer. It means nothing but is tied to everything like the umbilical of creation, like the thin spider web thread which you can use to pull the moon to your window at night.
it speaks despair and longing in the same breath, it speaks love and loss as a single anthem which makes your heart beat and then stop in the same number of letters as love.
as plea–I can’t making the weeping come.
I beg me to give up and give myself away.
it is the glue of the mantra when I’m too strong for giving up.
though the water dreams of dams she knows the walls must break and set her free again.
no matter how she tries she will rise and fall and press against rock and mountain until she prevails not with force but constancy.
the prayer of the strong is to be weak, the lament of the vast is to be small, the power of the cursed is to call for God in…