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