don’t wait for words – sketch memories
of work money love sex art and holiness
about dreaming and the immensity of it
be alone sometimes remember
to breathe – like a jazz musician
breathe confess and sing yourself
write what conscious art would censor
until you are empty and your heart breaks
you will be nothing and perfect in emptiness
you don’t know what’s going to happen
nobody knows besides that we’re all
gonna die and the loneliness of it
everything is holy it is not even happening
you and I and the stars and the earth
and the father we never found will be okay
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