Would like to run to my friends
& ring their bells, and tell them
I wish for it all to be
transcendental.
That it is not for granted.
That we can sit on the sofa
& appreciate each other
without feeling any quirkinesses.
I’d like to ooze a sea of goodwill
and comfort out my skin.
Yes, out my skin–to just radiate it.
Because to try to speak it
unless it flows naturally oozing outwards
is to be confounded
or to trip over
my intent.
Would like to take every corner
as I meet it but not in advance,
but in advance in some ways.
Would like a superposition of intent
and presence–
would like to anticipate
but also to react
in real time.
Would like to never feel shame
but always forgive myself.
Would like to not feel stilted.
“Do you feel I am reserved?”
I asked someone.
“Oh, a little,” she said.
And I thought it is because
I am not gushing over her
except for moments that I rush her.
In moments that I rush her
I am on a raft that is carrying me
in that moment, which is not exactly
like a previous episode’s moment
when I did not rush and gush,
and when there was no raft.
Because sometimes there is a raft.
Sometimes, though, just the memory
of a raft.
And sometimes you want the raft
to be very big–ideally all the time–
and you want to carry
the other’s consciousness with you
on the raft and let them see
how it is you are rushing and gushing
and wouldn’t it be nice
to rush and gush
together?
Lady