Tactile Knowledge
I think with my body not only with my brain.
A self-repeating-pattern is played back and forth between them like a ping-pong-ball:
Skin needs to be touched. The human body has skin. Skin needs to be touched.
The human body has skin.
Skin needs...
A child in my skeleton,
my body often is the source of my rapid and precise intuitive judgements.
So when it remembered how it radiated out of eyes that were directed at me,
remembered how the voice trembled,
I allowed myself the birth of a gesture.
Otherwise soon I wouldn't be able to tell
if my impression of the night had been real or just an idea.
Once there is a secret you can fill up the holes with suspicion.
At times I hear strange crazy words from my own mouth,
but I have devoted myself to the mastery of eternal trying,
and as long as I grand myself an interval between him and me,
I can later find myself again.
No is just an answer to a question. Unless we define it differently.
I have explored my own pain, I'm loving my past,
and I know I can seek refuge and warmth in my own thoughts.
Cowardice is lukewarm. I resign myself from it.
Most things worth wanting are on the other side of fear.
Humankind has to sway itself more intentionally toward beauty.
The human body has skin.
Skin needs...
If there comes light,
unhindered by space, things or time,
you gotta let it in.
When he danced with me,
dipping, soaring, undulating, glowing,
it was like a mountain laughing,
a cataract of joy.
So when this continued to echo and resonate in my body,
I knew I wanted to go where every thumb and fingerprint is yet a mystery,
and with my heart quickly beating against the morning,
I let him know too.
I sometimes walk surer than I am,
but I will always walk as one walks on the beach,
forward.
Nothing comes back. Everything stays vast.
A self-repeating-pattern is played back and forth between them like a ping-pong-ball:
Skin needs to be touched. The human body has skin. Skin needs to be touched.
The human body has skin.
Skin needs...
A child in my skeleton,
my body often is the source of my rapid and precise intuitive judgements.
So when it remembered how it radiated out of eyes that were directed at me,
remembered how the voice trembled,
I allowed myself the birth of a gesture.
Otherwise soon I wouldn't be able to tell
if my impression of the night had been real or just an idea.
Once there is a secret you can fill up the holes with suspicion.
At times I hear strange crazy words from my own mouth,
but I have devoted myself to the mastery of eternal trying,
and as long as I grand myself an interval between him and me,
I can later find myself again.
No is just an answer to a question. Unless we define it differently.
I have explored my own pain, I'm loving my past,
and I know I can seek refuge and warmth in my own thoughts.
Cowardice is lukewarm. I resign myself from it.
Most things worth wanting are on the other side of fear.
Humankind has to sway itself more intentionally toward beauty.
The human body has skin.
Skin needs...
If there comes light,
unhindered by space, things or time,
you gotta let it in.
When he danced with me,
dipping, soaring, undulating, glowing,
it was like a mountain laughing,
a cataract of joy.
So when this continued to echo and resonate in my body,
I knew I wanted to go where every thumb and fingerprint is yet a mystery,
and with my heart quickly beating against the morning,
I let him know too.
I sometimes walk surer than I am,
but I will always walk as one walks on the beach,
forward.
Nothing comes back. Everything stays vast.
