By Jennifer Fendya
I hold negative space in high
regard…totally, he sighed as
he felt the thrumming pull him
away from their constellation,
his voice elongated and finely
crystalline, like sugar spun into
swirled bouffants of pale sound
cloud, wispy and collapsible
on the tongue.
She perceived it? immersed her
self in it? was engulfed? No.
Floating eyes closed in the starbed
there was no differentiation of her
self from any thing. Only excitation,
only resonance. In the deep of
darkness, there literally is no
thing to see, so how could any
thing be the matter??
But open your eyes oh! and then
so many decisions to be made
continuously: here a particle,
there a wave, an am and am not,
like cats and dogs, like apples and
oranges; too many ruptures
and rifts recycled, breaches and
sectionings rebirthed one
generation to the next and
the next and…
Can’t a body at rest just remain
at rest? she breathed into the electro-
luminescence. Are there no laws
to prevent all the unnecessary
interference? Aren’t there municipal
ordinances against random noise?
Why can’t we just hang together in
this awesome Great Silence?
From his vantage point she was
a centripetal force constraining
him to this circular arrangement,
ad infinitum. Within their invisibly-
tethered dance, repercussions
lit up the cosmos, morphing and
snaking into sex and pulsating moral
outrage into heartfulness.
Eyelids fluttering closed again
like the delicate wings of Monarchs,
she surfed the milky waves
— light beaming, sound streaming —
the tribes and precincts she’d
inhabited dematerialized. In this
incorporate state, at least, they
were virtually free.
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