in which i contribute a feeble human attempt at articulating the sacred

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a resting
on the shores of horror
bodies become and are becoming
poetry
deteriorating
and also
brimming with electricity
in what should and shouldn’t be
a holy visitation when we transgress the Holy
wading further and further into waters that burn
a jawless scream speaks in tongues of angels

the drum strikes my heart and i quiver from the inside doubling over as life rises up in me and i am moved by the simultaneous yearning and discovery of the force of life that refuses me stillness as joy takes hold of my body and i cannot refuse its presence or its effect that causes my steps to turn to dance and i am possessed by freedom from the streets upon which i move that have taken me so many places but never here and here in the street in this moment i have found everything i have ever sought.

and my footsteps take me in the only direction i can comprehend at the moment
which is to you
which is forward
which is across a bridge
which is up a hill
and i’m climbing forward on stairs that take me up a hill to where you are and i turn back to see where i’ve come.
my vision has not turned to salt just yet,
as if this city in all its greed has been redeemed by a love that exists in spite of it

squares of brick and cement and glass
crush the ground
but
this hill cannot be leveled
and so
trees and brush and animals make their home here in defiance
between the high and the low
looking on with ancient eyes
waiting

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