 |
| Joan Mitchell, Untitled, 1969 (Oil on canvas) |
i was turned
living through the bodylistening, constrained creativity
this space, a yawning chasm
emerges and subsides
animated,
when actually connecting
that man, no discipline
spread thin over continents
drenched thick in substances
maybe it doesn't matter
suspended possibilities
this shared island of
plasticine permissions
presence is always felt
the thick-weave, first surge
no guile, no hidden agendas
never covering anything with mystery
allowing ourselves
to see and be seen