Tell them again what you want from the world and
let the world tell you again about its heart, exposed and heavy—
tell me again what it means to be alive and ornery, fussy with the day.
Let my adventure be your inspiration, my disappearance be the well from which you drink.
I will send you my observations from the sea in a glass bottle.
I will tell you of the birds and the islands and the angle of the sun as it eats away at the skin beneath my eye.
When they see your painting.
When they see it.
A massive wall of your incisions for all to see.
Let the first cut be my name.
This is a serial work in progress, all of what exists can be read here.