Lover
Lover is a text about giving up and carrying on going. About desire and feeling fragmented. For the full text, please access the google drive document linked here.
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A sick and sinking city,
At the end of the world,
At the end of the world we will see the greatest wave of lovers. Lovers to understand the constant desire to succumb and sink, to give in, to lay down to the weighted emotion. To hear the cacophony of the day, grinding, to know harmony is arbitrary. Running from a shattered wind, to resist and reconcile with our participation in this oppressive system. A call not to piece ourselves back together too quickly, only to find we have rebuilt what we wanted to stay broken. To know ourselves to be unfractured, the opposite of a fragment. Together, in alliance, to push our hands into wells of emotion previously unknown. The deepened hunger, the brute in us, self-feeding, serving, gorging. Under the ordinary aches & generic depression. From all the chewing and the spitting and the running, to the sparks of the dialectic and a resistance to restoring pathology to function. To stay incompatible to the system. To use a forefinger and thumb to pluck the wishbone from their chests and crawl up into the space of elbows and knees. To give our bones to shelter. To melt the ghosts, we know to be made of plastic, and to see their eyes with mine. To hold a stare between two still wet bodies – desperately strapped to one another. To strap together for the fall. When you fall, there is no white dove, and there is no fanfare. You will be met with a grease stained ruffle, seeped in disgust and fear.
From the room of radiance, to the un-light, to the trail blaze where roots twine in secrecy, to the fading light, to the final drips to the not quite longing, where the sky drains to milk white cloud and the final crow swoops alone. Where your eyes blur into saccharine glaze and sound fades out. Where a silence shatters it all, left in a numbed down, rinsed out, impassive, apathetic light.
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Longing;
To be shot with a silver bullet,
two sharp iron spears, that had been heated in a fire.
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