Please consider this
an invitation for you
to take a small step
with me
here
into a warm pool
of self-reflection
with its coincidences
and resemblances
to the things we
can touch
that may also touch us back
for the same reason
or terrify
by
sheer proximity of skin.
It feels blurry when fully
immersed
here
because this liquid is so much
thicker than blood,
immortal and color-less
in order
to not conceal its particulates
as deposited into your banks
of experience.
It all comes together
like light,
gravity, family and an image,
for a moment.
This shape
water takes
the pathways
as they mimic the way of wind
taking the open path
along, long, way around
an obstacle that doubled
itself as a ladder.
Without braces and right angles,
there are no straight lines or perfect circles
to be found or measured
here.
We may picture
perfection but cannot describe
or swallow it without losing
our senses
of things.
In between
breaks of concentration
the glass spiders
but it is held together
in its frame
since there was no place
to remain
the same
as the way we found.
Let us both observe
how much further,
the way you have held yourself back,
the way you left yourself
so easily open to suggestions
such as novelties as in
the word and first-mover
who made us-
stand up
while the mirror-image stayed
observant and seated
in place.
See,
that was not you
there
sinking in,
drinking in, thinking in
collected bodies capable
of lucid dreaming
without ever remembering
if we should have
broken the surface.
Photo credited by Jon Sullivan, 'Ashes on the Reflecting Pool' dated February 2013.
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