Did you hear? The future is sold out.
I wanted to give you my smartest words.
But it will take ages for them to
Paint even a rough portrait of me.
I might offer you verses or songs.
But you’ll need decades nonetheless
To distil from their tunes my blurry
Shade. I could tell you the bare truth.
But I fear you’ll forget that it remains
Nothing but a lie taken too seriously.
Perhaps, I should invite you to dance.
But each atom of space between us
Is a universe without stars to cross.
Behold, I know. Take my weight.
Immediately you’ll be in contact
With my essence bare naked
Ineffably alive and terribly exact.
Take it all. My weight is my soul
Take it and show me where is
The door that leads us forever here.
Nice. An ode to Contact Improvisation.