Radical Doubt

this is strange -- what is strange -- opening up a place -- inventing sound to fill space -- to begin again then again to say or echo a voice -- a thought -- mind slips -- this odd configuration living this -- several patterns submerged and then rising again -- tight chest -- too many faces -- terrible time -- fill in the C-spot -- stand still -- stop -- I will stop here -- this is time to stop -- is disengagement the prelude to total implosion? -- saturation point -- scale the world down to where it fits

my dreams are missing for several days -- almost a week, maybe over a week -- time shrinking and expanding -- a flexible tunnel. want my dreams back

odd that all can be resolved by talk -- the act of speech -- uttered in the right ear equals release

why do you ask "in an ideal world what would you want?" when worlds -- the many are never ideal -- philosophizing again, becoming too metaphysical -- you will never be willing to make my ideal world happen

she says: does it, did it, did she, he, it move, touch you? well did she? would you tell me -- loving minds and breasts -- did it move -- the earth -- the mind -- the lace curtains -- did they? does it touch you -- me -- she at all -- being an introvert only my perception of his touch touches me and being an extrovert you adjust to the object -- objectively rearranging matter -- logistically planning placement of wrists, ankles

"I could never make love to a woman if I didn't like her ankles" he said. I've never noticed ankles before as being particularly attractive or repulsive -- similar motivations -- intensity

screamed as you watched my hand mutating in the dark and she appeared to rise from the grave or slither from the ground to her full height in the sudden shaft of light -- a doorway -- opening

a portly man underwater rock climbing writes a poem about us -- never seen so many people naked she said not since high school -- the flaky one builds a sand castle on the rocks -- you say she unnerves me because of my fear that I may be like her -- she opens a door -- strikes a nerve -- a familiar pattern I detest

evil -- yes -- idea of a demon in the room a dark presence just like before -- pre-utterance -- crying in your sleep -- sobbing in your sleep this time -- spiders fill the house -- I woke up happy this morning

she paced back and forth in the canyons -- detached -- finding inner roads more comfortable -- stuck dancing in place -- your face glows from sun -- a burnished rose and also joyous -- watching the dyad turn I marvel at the binary system expanding to allow further entry then closing in again -- folding inward or rearranging into another similar pattern always opening again -- a lust for openness -- a need for the entrance visible