alder leaves in still creek, ducks nearby
fall in the river
projection ray
air flows over everything
.
.
.
spring time
everything crawling
up
& out
.
as the wind doze blow
my sad in festering joyous self
through wires
.
musicality draws life onwards endlessly
the way typing this out is a naturally budding thing
.
Am I a plant? I wish I was a plant.
I think I am a plant.
reaching towards the sun?
.
everything downpours eventually
sew this is all just water flowing
melting freezing melting pouring pooling
.
evaporating
.
this is air
makes a sound
.
music reaches directly into the softcore of my being
dissecting every line
.
speaks into the centre of my bleating heart
.
why would i ever stop listening?
.
being seen. being heard. being truly sound.
unsound
that’s the rub.
.
.
.
glut of stories untold untelling
life is beautiful and in puddles
.
wee fondle and finger the absent image
it still burns
.
.
.
shell(eyes)
oval shapes
ups wells
affixed into
t h in a i r
that familiar gaping feeling
(the one we were borne with)
dampens every crevasse
for ever (giving berth)
wet seeps into dry
wearing a way at the edges
pressing oneself against itself
weeps intuit
( m u m i s cr y in g )
forwards r e c ed e s
jessica gabriel : : : artist 