I must have read your letter a hundred times /
drafted my response ascending the washed out pink
of the Wburg bridge (u know the one) repetitive
travel by foot (running) training for the brooklyn
half marathon. how momentum forces the body
forwards in sub 30 weather / all flushed cheeks
& icicle muscle fiber. i saw a beating heart last week
fully open chest cavity / i watched the body mechanics
(surgeons) excise and replace a Very Important Doorway
b/w chambers. it was beating so fast & i was worried for it
the threshold b/w parts, left ventricle / aorta; boroughs
brooklyn / manhattan, the J late at night from W 4th st
the dotted line b/w night & day, the event horizon of
a city pulsing at the threshold of air & land, the body
on ice (temporarily) waiting for the definitive
SHOCK AWAKE, a hand’s gentle massage on
your SOURCE POWER i think of the repetition
of the oral tradition your pedagogic emphasis
& visceral commitment to rearrange space
with more possibility / let the axis wobble
@ the reverberation of your voice drench
my legs are tense from tabulating the miles
a train could take me on the QUEER REVELRY
urban node/s of RESISTANCE all those grungy
house beats shock my heartbeat back into
CONTAGIOUS RHYTHM does the movement
stop when the beat pauses? it’s been 8 years &
i still feel the shock of it buried deep in our
soft marrow hip joints locked from loss
i find relief in the timbre of your voice
widening possibility, opening the cages
at Sednaya prison, M’s breath along my skin,
green & purple & red & black hearts sent
between friends. may the trains bring our
hearts close together again soon.
XO AAK