HOW TO BE HERE ❋ Klara Feenstra

I know the waveform of an um
coming between
the bile and tongue
and tooth and security
and I. This profanity, still ill and sacrificial,
this promise of forever
always comes before
thoughts.
I know.
But in this room
anything but the swarm
is so pedestrian as
the strings and the autoharp,
are sick cumulative spheres.
A distant logic scattered now on the neurons.
My toe dips in, a thigh, a hip,
(a warm bath),
then to bed with you where we will stay for a day or a week
(a black bubble)
with all the gold webbing above our heads.
and the side effects
and the implications
and the so urgent
in the hapless joints of
the full body and heavy head
further in.
I work so hard,
To be here now with the sound and salt
your words ringing as if they were text.
We write into concrete
any object at all
all that talk – all that promise.
You do it
the way you dance to and not with the song.
We have ummed so much
that surely to not
not
not do it
not
not like a hair I pull from my throat
not
find it
a so sense of
where we are
is so not
it is so not.