Recitation: she's buoyant

do what you can to make yourself still.
relax or sit upright, whichever
feels the most comfortable for you.

empty yourself as much as you can.
to let go, feel zero, sense nothing.
hold onto what’s left; cling there, barna-
cle you; hold fast, waiting for plankton.

keep drifting. feel yourself merge into
voids. think of a person who made you
whole: material, sensual you.
uncanny, unfamiliar sensa-
tions, enlightening you, as their gift.

remember how you didn’t know that
your body could feel that way, so full.
the soles of your feet, backs of your knees,
nerves in your solar plexus, ribs, veins
in your shoulders, muscle in your mouth.
all wrapped in white linen, just for you.

remember the way sweat on skin tastes,
and when it hit your tongue. why was theirs
so memorable? was it salty,
metallic, unpredictable tang,
or sweetness you felt inside your soul?

step backwards and think how they made you
feel whole, where you felt it, how you sensed
it. clutch it as you float through nothing,
embodying sounds that bring them here.

continue the sounds demonstrating
their presence for as long as they stay
by your side, or until they dissolve.