this our impossible savorings:
when the world spins into itself its tautness is more unruly than the axis it’s made of. more
unruly than its impossible invisible spindle. spin spin spin into something to salivate for.
something to devour. its galactic need, the ego of it. see the world turned into its
spindling & it’s more than the world can handle. Is just what the body looks like when it’s
made only of desire. when it’s made of desire the world is all admonishment
& premonition. spin spin spin. see it. see it spinning electric. the body
within it all neon & the body all the table’s halogens. all its fluorescents. its metals glinty
in cavelight. all the world is made of can’t be enough for the body so ok
then it’s not enough. it’s not the body. it’s the air that moves around it. how it spins
itself around every soft cartilage. spin spin spin spin. & you’d think
it’s about the body since it’s always about the body but this time it’s really about the air.
how it gives. how it makes way. its resistance is what holds the body back into
itself & holds it always there & always holds it. always in its tautness of worlding &
pressure. in its tautness of stilling itself before the air. spin spin. in the in between
of the body & the air & the world what it’s really about is what it always returns for. Its
patterns. its outrageous tendernesses. spin spin spin spin. itself pressing
into its body & body pressing into the world & world pressing into the air into the body &
there’s nothing more simple than the world & looking closely at it & no
really looking closer & look. closely. & looking closer still & seeing the world
spinning & seeing the tree in the world spinning & seeing the oncilla in the tree in the
world spinning & wanting to be the spinning tree in the world that holds the spinning
spinning oncilla.
