“And I talked with you as friends talk.”
Confessions, Book 9,1
“I would like to live like a river flows
Carried by the surprise of it’s own unfolding.”
From the poem “Fluent”
Inside this new love, die.
Your way begins on the other side.
Become the sky.
Take an axe to the prison wall.
Walk out like somebody suddenly born into color.
Do it now.
You’re covered with thick cloud.
Slide out the side.
and be quiet. Quietness is the surest sign
that you’ve died.
Your old life was a frantic running
The speechless full moon
comes out now.