- Vol. 04
- Chapter 07
The Question of Bodies
where does blood die along the way? I want to know myself out of this body, into the realm of soil and space. the universe swirls each morning, thrusting me from my bed.
I want a celestial body of my own elemental formations instead of fragile skin and nails. worship my orbit. lick the rings of my planet and savor the tang. this chair is only a prison for the physical, not the thoughts.
reform me, creator, let me spill over the edges like a tide.