It requires an excess of self awareness
Self discipline
Instant tolerance of all your parts
Engaging sequences of inquisition;
choreograph your character
Marry your moments.
Undress your madness with the precision of a physicist
Capture your fire in a glass globe
to enlighten the sidewalks of your routine
your bashful body
your stupid human semblance
the craters of your dreams.
It requires sex but not too often
Broken bones and exposure to closeness
Intimacy with distance
You must hold the Master’s brush
–brush with death–
and already know the correct combination of colors
as you dip it into the wells
Animate vacant scapes with what you think of living
Your nakedness repels fear
Wake up lonely
Build a family
Dive off the deep end
In a warm spring rain
your feet begin to uncover patterns for dancing
on everything—
Get carried away.
Bind the textile bits of sentience
with the tethering threads of truth.
Weave these threads with the loom of your love
Even though your fingers may bleed