BEFORE FORM

Electricity enters my pores. Tremble with electricity. Lighting cracking my bones. My chin caresses the clouds. My eyes are in my wrists. All the stars fall into my navel. My navel eats the stars. The stomach - a vast empty endless bowl. I pluck stars - minute points of light - as in a cherry orchard - all around me - to satisfy - fill my bowl eternally. I run with a harp on my back. God is as near as the vein in the neck. Smell the memory of your childhood.