astral projection as dissociation

then

No,

nothing can hurt you, here

where stiff as a board ain’t 

light as a feather, where

breathing might make it real.

If you stay still as a stagnant pond, if you

still your trusting heart, if you

still your trembling thighs,

(is this still the way you survive?)

this will be a nightmare, or

a dystopian future, or

someone else’s past,

not yours.

No.


now

Learn the language of joy.

How the sea feels on your hips, 

how the sun feels on the backs of your knees,

the bottoms of your tits.

The same way you learned

to sacrifice your body for your mind.

The same way you learned

to die inside yet keep your skin glowing,

keep the smiles coming.

It will take your entire life, but

you must learn to love this body, 

its lightning, branching stretch marks, 

its sagging, shrinking breasts.

It will take your entire life, but

you must learn to recognize god 

at rest.


then

Step out 

onto the sand,

one foot at a time,

towards her churning, foaming maw.

Swim until you tire, let your hair tangle & nap.

Let salt water turn sweet in your lungs; it’s heavy

& sticky like bed sheets,

like bad memories.

Swim until you can’t

swim back


now

She calls you home, 

but you are unfinished.


then

Child, 

you are human.

Filled with the breath of life,

spirit made flesh.

You know birth, death,

the astral wilderness.

Do you know not the divine when you see it?

Oh, you say,

under all the makeup, maybe.

Under all the scars, the pock marks,

the extra hair.

I’ve glimpsed a spark of the divine

in my skinny calves,

my bird wrists.

Child,

stand naked in front of the mirror,

do not flinch. Stare.

See that?

In every roll, every ripple,

every unsightly bulge,

is god.


now

Yes,

everything can hurt you, here

because you are alive.

Yes.

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