sir reel

Sitting inside this cold stone chamber lit by placid, blue, iridescent pools, my mind begins to conjure spirits of broken reminiscence on the luminous sculpted walls. The music of my mentality wills the shades to shift, showing their cosmic connections in reflections of riveting dramas of divination. My memories made manifest stretch across eons of elastic moments, so fragile and brittle that one timid tone could cause the tender tendon to snap.

Written on this ribbon are coded coatings of my addictions— not the physical, but the feelings of pleasure, lust, anguish, secrets, belonging, empowerment, and devotion. I see threads of golden obsession, fragments of stories interwoven out of this flat circle we call time. We would give up anything to be with her, have her, hold her, and be forever lost inside her– that mother, sister, daughter, lover Earth.

Fuck the sky father. We shall lean upon our bardo brothers and sons until death pulls us back to the reaches of sweet sacrifice and sorrow.