we went sub-atomic, we astral projected, the old thunder was back again. it rumbled beneath, it frightened the children. your fingers and hair pulsed as a signal, electric and endless, silk and yarn born as vines in the jungle. we went down, we pushed deep, there were promises made brand new again.
we played basketball with our spirit animals against egyptian gods, shirts versus skins, scales against fur. we launched ourselves against the rim and you slam dunked the sun's edge where it shattered. there was shared power, there were strong steps to move against. in the glowing center of the galaxy i poured a forty for all the dead stars in the night sky and to a universe still expanding. you raced the wind, you saw the sights. the ghosts of your grandchildren waved from other timelines and all the ways the world could be but were not reached out across the distance. we left them behind.
i swam too far and my heart stopped, for three whole minutes in the clear glacial void it stopped completely. the voice that reached me there was a mother's patient tone and i rose half-dreaming but lucid. you drew a map of your body, its cult of cells, the hidden valleys and the secrets you keep, where x marks old worlds unchanging. the air was hot so we conjured cold milk from a silver horn and the magic that rolled our minds onward, the fantasy of living, the gift of awareness, it felt closer. an end was unquestionable, our spent lives tarnished gems in the ancient lodestone walls. we found no fear in the knowing. we pressed on, we shot straight. there was honesty in our answers.
-blh 2009
echo park
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