Studies in Sobriety Poetics Donate.
         
     

The Flowing Through

 

     

I am asleep, I am awake - I know not
who or what comes to me or
   where I go
For Heirs is the inheritance of theirs
the rituals I make - the words
   I write of it.

Heirs spirit fills me - I am like a cross
which is put inside a cross
   of a cross.
They drink from me, I am like a river
which flows through them,
   splashing into.

It is like gathering it into a mussel
and we drink from ourselves,
   sate our thirst.
For they are inside and outside me
like mountains which rise
   next to me.

I rise with them, I fall with them
It flows with and through us
   there we are:
A voice which speaks into our own
nose, mouth, ears and eyes
   and pierce it.

       
 
         
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