Does language hover between my nerve endings and the world, or is language my skin itself? Sheath of feeling. Words groping to touch air.
-oh, writing process- on Metaphor
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in my apartment on a dance-the-poetry-within-you dayI never know what is going to emerge that day, ever, always a surprisea rough draft, notes towards, an unexpected
survey, touching bits, the movement churns
thoughts, feelings, ideas, memoriessurfacingafter, yes, I could write a whole pieceexpand concepts and feeling-in-formoffer a more complete essay, sashay into & aroundbut the initial arousalthe first moments of slips of gatherings of thoughts, ideas, feeling-in-formthat's what's hereon Metaphor, 16 Sep 2024
videoed on a Pocket 3 in DLog M with minimal editing