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the balled up fist cannot escape the jar
she sits salivating, dancing visions of fruitflesh
when he places a hand on her shoulder and says

I WANT YOU TO FOCUS ON WHAT YOU SEE

and music is the world, twisting echoes of color
deep calls into the valley come back tinny
the river is ice for one moment and thirty years have passed
when you reach out you have a hundred arms
and you see your fingernails growing

I WANT YOU TO FOCUS ON WHAT YOU SEE

i am lost she cries i am drowning
a cascade of bricks down her throat
the prickly silence of a pile of dry leaves
the trees are on fire, they are weeping. no---
they are only breathing the seasons

I WANT YOU TO LET GO OF THOUGHT

i am not in control she cries i am drowning
the dark shapes stalk closer
past a thousand graves, moonvine and morning glory
their skin crackles electric shadow
eyes the piercing bone of the moon
driven through her soft red flesh

I WANT YOU TO MEET YOUR EMPTY SELF

i am so far from empty she cries i am full of
water. in every direction cool and buoyant
a billion billion gallons, unfathomable
but she is right here floating in this place
arms outstretched, looking at the sky
seeing blue and blue and blue

undifferentiated mind