I rest along the way in this beautifully set camp of my making

But it is only a marker of what I know now

it is not meant to hold

For I love to fall through water in the moments when rush parts

And brushes back to touch and accept and be with me

But I also love the lift out and pull away nakedness that a giles the next climb

These points of arrestment and assessment are the evidence I crave

Making physical these subtle fleeting truths is building me

I have no notion that I should possess the portrait only to enjoy it for a while

And search for its lesson

Read its screen and marvel at it temporanious plate as though I were an unvested visitor

Curious, amused, gathering, apprehensive, tentative and smart

I’ll take only what is good

This process

This distallation

Awakens me

Perhaps it’s just roughage

Does binging and purging bring about the light fantastic?

I had an old roommate that said

“I think the only reason I date these guys

is for the exhilarated feeing I get when I break up with them”

And so she cut her famous long hair each time

And was beautiful again

Things are expendable to me

So I’m kind of cocky in the acquisition of them

I revel in these choices knowing they are but sand castles

Temperal and important in the loss

There is a light and cumulative wealth

But then so would say

A gifted whore

Bobby McAlpine – “Finding Home”  ©

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