n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own…
—The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows
Perhaps a methodology of wings. Breathe in.
Perhaps a methodology of sadness. Breathe out. Remember to breathe out.
Perhaps you remember every human surface can be scraped,
torn, burnt, bruised, opened, broken into blood.
Perhaps you remember every human holiness can be broken—
opened like a wound for flies, closed too tightly for breath to enter.
Perhaps you remember every human-ness can be broken, and will be.
Perhaps you say every body is sacred as light. Breathe in.
Perhaps you come to belief that every body is sacred as light,
its atoms bumping into and fleeing each other, making light without
explosion. Breathe out.
Perhaps HolyHolyHoly contains creation, redemption, sanctification.
Perhaps these are one Body—each Body expresses, rescues, breathes.
Remember the bodhisattva chooses to remain among. Breathe in.
Remember you need not be a bodhisattva to choose. Breathe out.
Perhaps you remember you, each and each, breathe each others’ air, alive.
Perhaps this is flight, ohmylove. Perhaps in my mouth/heart/breath/intention
you are become verb.