qtine thoughts (w/ a line from Psych lol)
the past is a jinn / sitting on your chest dreams aren’t warnings they are forecasts
the weather will always get inside your body where the convergence of meaning strikes
so learn to swim / the other woman is you with different teeth / always a rose on the table
for blessings / and two for love / which is a container for a shared vocabulary of symbols
stand in front of your mirror / what tarot card are you today / consider your posture / are you held up
by a stem / a wick / a sword in stone waiting for the hand of god / ya god / ya allah / god
and allah are the same articulations of wind realized at different registers / you don’t have to
be praying all the time / often, you are heard the first time / a gift to be read / you were always
a watcher but its never too late to be a doer to plunge a trowel into dirt and tuck a seed
behind the unknown’s ear / the sun is a sound the heart is a radio / when you dream of your love singing
and a thermometer when you begin to forget the shape of their ears
an owl is just the sky whistling thru its nose while sleeping
when the color blue rests its eyes and it’s just night / not sadness
there’s a million reasons a horse loses none of them have to do with crystals
and moonbeams but partly to do with blood the tools are important but ultimately do you know
how to be your own light dappled through milkweed
butterflies and moths are two sides of the same shaft of light / their shadows
on the wall a projection two sides of the same hope
you are protected
can anybody see the future? what’s over there why is there always a president
why is everyone a cop or a test
if you drop a question mark you’re supposed to flip it
heads up for the next person the bulb from which a penny grows
dead ends are doors with no handles even in hell you keep digging
fate is just pheromones that’s a cool sentence, but do I believe it
that’s a nice question but can it carry my weight
when a sickness doesn’t kill you but still takes pounds of flesh there is a separate heaven for your melted parts
in the clouds spread above us our bodies are part of the water cycle
water has memory our bodies repeat like calendars
the clouds are archives fact-check me, baby / then strike the record
the world’s a needle / like my finger when i traced the lines in his palm / and then
a blackbird flew out of his mouth / in the dead of night, a song / graceful, mine. that’s just one example
i don’t have another