Sharing Bodies

Nobody’s cloth is really different from another’s, nobody.
Face, Legs, hair, eyes, lips, parts of the body continue to eat people into thinking that they are bigger than what they are.
But people are bigger than what they are. They are bigger than their clothes and frame.
I saw a man eat the Sun once,
and flushed it down with a bottle of reality.
My mind keeps splitting into small pieces of many things.
It keeps molding itself into newer versions of swallowing waters
that draw maps of life
and humans are fishes swimming to the rhythm of invincible sounds.

Open these bodies.
Trace out the lines that are cursed through the spitting of tongues
that is saying I am different – that is saying you are different – that is saying she is different and so we should burn all because they do not understand us – because they do not understand themselves.
But bodies are dynamic and so they bend and twist into shapes that suites only them.

In this life we cringe from fearing what we do not know,
which is what we ought to know.
All souls are merged, that means we are one, that means we are indivisible, that means we are a mountain that cannot be moved.
The enemies of the people always keep crying wolf
and so one day they would cease to find voice
and people would become a tower of talking bodies.

Wear my cloak of somberness and make my readings from within you,
away from being buried in the cockiness of your ignorance like proud beggars.
This poem is not about today – This poem is tomorrow’s blood pouring from the sockets of sunken eyes,
freeing entangled souls woven into the matrix of shattering misunderstandings.
Saying that we all are 1,
= Sharing bodies.