Us as Arcs

So what we are is how we were (where is becomes was) when was meant now… when every it, be, do stops (tenderly, mindlessly) it’s only for these bodies woven, these quivers (like ripples: expansive) of bundles of nerves recharged and calmed. a word is a string of shapes that, evanescent, is sent up once spoken in a rapid and harmless line. but a doing clings and slithers, terribly parallel to the earth. perpendicular straight lines only meet where they began: words and doings divorce and estrange. love and fear and sin are sounds of shapes of what cannot exist until the words are forgotten, and these bodies bend down and take handfuls of dirt.