My Hands Prophesy Hope Of Prophecy

I hint at my hands     I hint my hands Christ holes / goose stomach stigmata

I hint at my hands words Christ hole hole language languages whole     Languages hole Christ hand and I read somewhere Leonard Da Vinci painted Christ with nail marks in his wrists because based on his studies of human anatomy and the traditional description of the crucifixion, he knew Christ’s hands couldn’t support the weight of his body (this assumed no ropes were used and Christ’s feet were nailed in front of the cross)     He hands hint liturgy of the hours hours hospice and I borrow my writing from death (I wish I could write about anything other than death)     I borrow from death death absolutely

I have mixed feelings about turning 40, I say.  I’m trying to celebrate it big to feel better about it.  Oh shit, says Christina.  I forgot we turned 40 this year.  What are your mixed feelings?  TIME TO GET A MOTORCYCLE, I say.  I”m old.  I didn’t think I would live to 40.  You’re past mid-life crisis, I think, says C.  You lived past the median age for adult with mental health issues.  I thought 40 was middle aged, I say.  Oh shit, you’re right, says C.  Google says 40-60.  I signed up for AARP last month.  You are old, I say.  They have good deals! says Christina

My hands hint liturgy of the hours hands prayer     (My hands pray shit, for adult with mental health / my hands hint you’re turning mixed life midlife crisis for about thought forty)

My hands borrow my writing from death and to death (I wish I could write about anything other than death.  Death delivers itself to death after death overtures to death, the song writes melodic death.  Song sings harmonic death / an evil heat harmony.  I wish I could write about anything other than death and I steal death in text and quotation.)

I borrow my writing towards death death absolutely     My hands heat halfway erasure: halfway erasure erasure entirely (You line down death death median     Median     Median meddle middle-aged forgot we turn forty      Erasure half-way I forgot we turn forty)     My hands hint erasure aperture erasure

My hands heat halfway erasure: half-way erasure erase entirely     Halfway erasure erase entirely / holistic words hand wolf transformations     My hands husk hula hoop hypnosis: harp homosexuals   hymn homosexuals   hookworm homosexuals   look hands entirely

My hands hit erase six erasure hands my hands     My hands hike hit erasure entirely sit erasure erasure my hands (My hands pray holy holy holy: my hands entirely pray the throne holy holy holy.  Hands haunt host and haunt the glory and throne, and throne teeters hands entire.  Holy holy holy prays odd gods and prime gods.  The god N has opened the womb: the god N has widened the womb.  My hands hint the god N and nameless, the womb wearing the width of the word – word.)     My hands erase erase many gods and reveal gods other

I think Asia would say I haven’t been abusive since that time, I say.  She feels I have been improving as a friend in general.  It seems like you’ve experienced a lot of growth, says Christina.  Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it, I say.  It’s a struggle honestly.  I don’t think I would have survived without Asia’s help when you were absent.  I’m glad you had support, says C.  I feel pretty lucky, I say.  I’m such a difficult person to get along with but many people love me.  You’re irreplaceable though.  I’m not, says C, but I appreciate you being nice.  Have you seen the movie Before Sunset with Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke? I say.  I don’t think so.  OK, I’m going to send you a quote from the movie, I say.  “I feel I was never able to forget anyone I’ve been with.  Because each person has their own specific qualities.  You can never replace anyone.  What is lost is lost.  Each relationship when it ends really damaged me.  I never fully recover.  That’s why I’m very careful getting involved, because… It hurts too much!  Even getting laid!  I don’t actually do that… I miss on the other person the most mundane things.  I’m obsessed with little things.  Maybe I’m crazy but… when I was a little girl, my mom told me that I was always late to school.  One day she followed me to see why.  I was looking at chestnuts falling from the trees rolling on the sidewalk, or.. ants crossing the road, the way a leaf casts a shadow on a tree trunk… little things.  I think it’s the same with people.  I see in them little details, so specific to each of them, that move me, and that I miss and… will always miss.  You can never replace anyone because everyone is made up of such beautiful specific details.”  That’s you.  Irreplaceable.  You can’t be replaced.  No one will replace the details.  In other words I’m not saying that to be nice – I’m saying that because I feel that deep within me about you, I say.  Yeah, I get it now, says Christina.  It makes sense.  Anyways, it’s one of my favorite movies, I say.  The whole trilogy is.  I’m a sappy sentimental person full of bathos.  I don’t know if you remember that about me.  I do, says C.  I’m still a heartless cunt though.  All my friends are heartless cunts so it’s OK.  So I am in good company says C.  Yep yep yep, I say.  I have enough heart for everybody.

My hands erase erasure and prophecy.  My hands prophesy hope of prophecy and I hope in prophecy, and I hope I prophesy creativity.  I hope I prophesy create and I create (I create one involves because everyone and the other other other own, so specific school).  I hope I prophesy something radically flat and radically open (the god N has opened the god N has wideness).  I hope I prophesy something creative anarchic (creative-anarchic Kindred and flat Kindred connects Kindred to Kindred innumerably connected).  I hope I prophesy something creative-anarchic, no claims but inclusive orphan widow open window.  I prophesy the weed breaking open the concrete and I was looking at the chestnuts falling from the trees, rolling on the sidewalk and sidewalk choirs weed word gospel.

(I do not erase but I draw hands into hands into hands erased various monstrosities and I prophesy myself monstrosities.  I do not erase but intensify the details – little details sparking little lights and the lights roll across the sidewalk.  I walk on my my hands handstand steady sidewalk talk, and I break through the concrete dandelions germinate Palm Tree Garden.  Not erasure but the recognition of hands and details and many details desert lights.)

I prophesy the crashed open Black Iron Prison liberated into and between the Palm Tree Garden.  I prophesy liminal and threshold holy life holy death holy brothel holy bridal chamber (Let the prophet speak, says Ann Marie.  The prophet is the womb of God where gravity is trans-gravity and land is metal-land.  And God is real [Israel] and so are we.  The image is literal, the metaphor is boundary.  The symbol is alive.  The parable tells the truth.  And wonder is God [And God; Love], says Ann Marie).

The hands host husks hymn hymn hymn / nonsense reveals divine word     Absurd opens into Palm Tree Garden (I never really fully recover from the absurd and I involve absurd obsessed absurd little things     Recover Kindred little details detail Christina she holds hands Kindred hands)







My Hand Erases Then Writes A True Thing

My hand erases then writes a true thing / Only the hand that erases can write the true thing     I never erase but I write lies of serpent river of tears

My hand erases utterly erased erase experiment (my hand erases hand in the act of writing)

My hand erases and then writes red rope caravan: my hand erases act of writing very red / the monster Rahab.  Rahab erases rope caravan rahab habitat (When a woman loves a man who was not of her tribe, she would leave her family without property rights; and people would call her hostess)     I hostess hot caravan red bodies raw bodies writhing

My hand erases writhing rewritten bodies twenty to thirty centimeters of rope red erase rough red bell bodies rich blood

I never erase but I write red red verily red lies of serpents amen.  I never erase Christina and Kindred verily I tell you Kindred amen.  Jesus said: What the Kingdom resembles is a shepherd who has one hundred sheep.  One of them, the largest, strayed away.  He left ninety-nine and sought the one until he found it.  After having toiled, he said to the sheep, I love you more than the ninety-nine.  I never erase Christina and Kindred, and toil after Kindred and I love Christina more than the ninety-nine.

My hand erases then writes a true thing and true name.  My hand erases the erasure hand in hand.  My hand erases and rewrites I love you more than the ninety-nine (the only way to know a person: to love them without hope).  My hand erases and erases rewritten, and I love Christina without hope.

I love Christina without hope and I love Christina more than the ninety-nine (While his father was still a long way off, his father saw him and was moved with pity.  He ran to the boy, clasped him in his arms and kissed him […]  Quick!  Bring the best robe and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet.  Bring the calf that we have been fattening and kill it.  We will celebrate by having a feast, because this son of mine was dead and has come back to life; he was lost and is found.)     I love Christina without hope and I love Christina more than the ninety-nine

The only way to know a person: to love them without hope   (Kierkegaard’s infinite resignation?  I’d rather be a Knight of Faith although my faith weakens daily.  I dispense of my faith in YHVH and the cross of Christ altogether.  I place my faith in the women of my life and my faith as faith reveals all weakness:  Christ weak on the cross / my faith minor threat filler.)

I should let you know one good thing that came from your absence, I say.  Asia and I became better friends.  We became best friends.  We even have a name for our friendship:  “Pando”.  There are still struggles and insecurities but we are in a much better place since we last talked.  I like Pando! says Christina.  Etymology?  Name of a quaking aspen colony, I say.  A quaking aspen forest that shares the same root system and genetics.  Pando = same wavelength, to quote Asia [Editing note:  not a forest, but a single tree:  “A male clonal colony organism, Pando has an estimated 47,000 stems (ramets) that appear to be individual trees, but are connected by a root system that spans 106 acres… Pando was identified as a single organism because each of its stems possesses identical genetic markers.]  Oh that’s good! says Christina.

I know Christina because I love her without hope.  I love KRYSXTRYN because I love her without hope.  I love YHVH but I hope: I do not and cannot know Yahweh.  The Christian god erases me I hope and I do not know hope and I hope without hope kenotic faith faith khora.

I know Christina from her absence     From her absence I know and I know Christina from her absence

The only way to know Christina is through her absence (Christina etymology erases meaning from meaning quaking aspen wild west   From your absence, Christina wild west / not a forest but a single tree)

I know Christina not a single tree not not a single tree but from the absence a single tree.  I know Christina absent forest without hope and without hope a single tree.

I hope you know that I’m very proud of our friendship, I say to Asia.  I’m very proud of us being Pando friends.  I feel we have overcome a lot.  I say this because at one point I was speaking highly of us to Christina.  I wanted to share because I wanted you to see your influence and positive impact on me. [I send Asia the Christina conversation above].  I hope you like what I said about our Pando connection and I hope you don’t mind me speaking highly of it.  I do like it, says Asia.

My hand erodes and then writes the true thing / Only the hand that erases can write the true thing     I never erase but write / witness lies of serpents river of tears

I hint at hands     I hint at hands Christ holes / surgeon stigmata sturgeon stigmata     I went at hand word Christina hole language language whole (Whole language erases and rewrites hope.  Without hope and with hope the Kingdom resembles Pando.  I sought the one root system and I identify all the stems as the origins of my hands.  Whole language recognizes the one root system as the source of the ninety-nine.  I do not erase but fatten the language whole.  I celebrate the language Christina feast and Christian feast and Kindred feast.  I embrace Christina like the prodigal son and I throw her a fucking feast.)

I hint at hands tingling anxious hands and if I try to erase, my hands reappear the mystery of Christ’s post-resurrection appearances     I hint at hands Christ’s holes wholly hand language

I hint at wholly hand language one point language to one point language pando languages     (I hint at a polyphonic and pando languages: languages root syntax connected and possessed and I possess the language almost erases but toiled whole Kingdom language.  I hint at Pando performance overcoming Pando, and Pando impacts into the spread of language connecting hands.)     My hands erases and then writes the true thing: I love you more than the ninety-nine connected by one root system



I Partially Interpret Kindred

I partially interpret riverbark bodies.  I interpret rivers partially rivers, and I interpret the rivers as blue and red human bodies.  I interpret bank bodies and my body rams red caravan on the edge of the nail.

I partially interpret nail nacre nock talk tophet (I pass the through the fiery arms of tophet.  Tophet talks human body table salt.  Tophet shakes salt over human bodies and human body body machine bone minerals.  Falling arms burns body meat mantle metals – heavy metals metal heavy metal metals heavy.)     I interpret tophet taller ben hinnom     Tophet trades blood blood raid radians / circular tophet turn bath sea

I interpret Christina and Kindred in the fiery arms tophet     Tophet particularly interpret tophet Kindred

I’m glad you felt relief, says Christina.  It felt selfish on my part.  Everything has been selfish on my part.  But it had to be that way, says C.  If you’re not ready to talk about your hell, that’s OK too, I say.  I can tell you about the good things that happened if you like.  But I do want to hear from you.  I told Violet and Taryn about your last messages because I was so excited and they said you are so selfish and making it about you.  But I didn’t feel that way when you messaged me.  I felt happy, I say.  It was about me, says C.  But I felt moved to be truthful with you in the moment.  You can tell me about it when you’re ready, I say.  I was always going to forgive you regardless how long it took.  You told me once us better separately makes us better together.  I felt you were making yourself better.  Asia told me the same thing that I had to allow you the space and time to be better, I say.  

I partially interpret Kindred Kingdom of the Skies

I partially interpret the river relief cut relief: relief meat mettle middle caravan cat red     Relief rents the relief felt on my part

I interpret partially felt or my part   part on my part selfish interpretation     I interpret partially red rudder constellations

I interpret endless endless ending endless.  I interpret endless partial endless river red endless selfish on my part.  Interpret in parts: interpret immediately endless imitates river red.  Immediately the river extends hesitant: hesitantly selfish and everything has been selfish on my part.  I participate part partials red rivers rivers again speed red endless caravans.

Red caravan on the edge of the nail knocks agar door body body asymmetry left

On the edge left left asymmetrical door edge on the caravan (When a man desecrates an ancient Indian burial ground… His friends will pay the ultimate price!   Within The Woods)

This writing disappears in the act of writing without interpretation.  The not-interpretation had to be this way.  Not-interpretation salts tophet into reveals fire bodies every body wills YHVH word of god every body inhabits each letter Yod-Hay-Vav-Hay word of god – every body emanates creates word of God YHVH

I finally couldn’t handle my situation at home, says C.  T was going out every night to work dinners and dates.  I worked 80+ hours until I could qualify for rent (3 months of income 3x rent).  When I asked T about a particular place I was about to put a deposit on, he said he was planning on giving me the house.  We decided on a move-out goal for him.  December 1.  He has his own place now, but he hasn’t moved out completely.  There’s been health stuff and work stuff, and both kids have gone through school and service changes.  But I feel like I can handle those things better now that he’s nearly out, says C.  That sounds very stressful, I say.  I see you had your hands full and many worries.  Are you to a place where we will be able to catch up and talk on a sort of regular basis?  I think so! says C.  I want to be.  I haven’t been in regular contact with anyone in months.  So maybe just keep your expectations medium.  I was without you for 9 months so I think I will be OK with whatever you have to give, I say.  And of course you can tell me to fuck off, says C.  For forever or for a limited amount of time.  No, I embrace you like a prodigal son and I’m throwing a fucking feast, I say.  I will attend with bells on, says C.  You are everything I need even if I don’t deserve it.  Unconditional love isn’t about deserving it or not, I say.  It’s about choosing to love you whatever happens and I do love you, I say.  I love you too, says C.  Now I can write a sort of happy ending to the Christina mourning notebook, I say.  I want it to be a happy ending, says C.  I feel more prepared to be human.

I partially interpret red caravan on the edge of the nail: Kindred on edges and in edges     I interpret asked about this particular place and I participate in this particular place:  I participate in the giving interpretation and given     Give horse balanced on the edge of the nail knits nail     I asked particular black hole

This is the place this is the place erodes     This is the place is the writing erases itself in the act of writing     This is place place red caravan red rope stripped through the rift-rip of my nostrils

(Wrap the rope around left ankle and wrist three times; leave around 20-30 cm of rope.  Take the excess 20-30 cm of rope and pass it over.  Cinch the whole cuff.  Gently pull at both rope ends and make sure that it isn’t too tight or too loose.  Make a knot change direction and make a second knot.  Pull the longer end of the rope and check that the knot is stable.  Tie the other ankle and wrist the same way.)

I interpret red rope caravan / red canopy.  Under the red canopy you can tell me to fuck right off (for if you’re sick of cradling and dragging around my injures you can just say “fuck right off” it’s better than not knowing)

(This Book can fuck right off / Book erases itself in the act of writing – Book disappearing when Book writes and rewrites.  I bind the Book red rope pulled into knots by the red caravan.  I fail the Book / throw a fucking feast.  Book feasts on my body until nothing dead end repetition dead end.  Book feasts ben hinnom tophet unfit and Book writes my body erases.)

I interpret my body disappearance



I Finish Mourning

I start a picture and finish it     I start a picture and finish it / I never finish the writing     I do not finish the writing and writing flirts unfinished totally unfinished     No writer originated and I do not originate all my texts photocopy


//
I start a picture and I finish it: I finish this Christina Writing and Kindred Writing

I hope in hell.  I hope in hell happenings – strange happenings like an unassisted triple play in baseball.  My life exists strange signals and stray transmissions.  I transmit Miles Davis modal Milestones minimal liminal lodestone.  I hope in hell or through hell.  This year often happened look hell hell this year often hell (often hell this year hell).  I hope in hell I’m going to make it through this year if it kills me.

Christina sent me a text message last night.  First time I’ve heard from her in six months:  “I need more time.  I still can’t be the friend you need me to be.  I don’t have it yet.  You’re going to start seeing me more active online.  But I don’t have the strength to tend to our relationship.  I’m sorry.  I love you.  I miss you.”  I accept her message.  I miss and love her too.  I feel renewed hope we will reconcile someday – when Christina feels able to.  I will welcome her and love her unconditionally and I already forgive her for any pain and hurt and grief she has caused.  I hope she makes it where she wants to be.

I hope in hell.  I hope in hell.  I hope in hell weird and strange longer stall airplane strange rain (Why does it always rain on me).  I know her hell and I hope in hell: Book of Hell and Book of Questions.  Hope in the marriage here her hell knowledge.

I start a picture and finish it: I finish this Christina Writing and Kindred Writing
//


I start a picture and finish it     I start a picture and finish it / I do not finish the writing

I picture brushwork bodies (picture brush rush brushwork work rush picture)     I picture brushwork bold pigment pinwheel word     Ben bodies fill in the shape fuzzy edges     Edge fuzz fuzzy edge shaped shape (Edges enter edges the edged body of my body embedded in fuzzy backgrounds.  Edges etch edges ben backgammon and I move through the lines weightless.  Edges move through my body weightless.  Fuzzy edges float endless weightless and flora body edges into the form of the image).  I picture brushwork Taryn thought rather than image     I launch myself into her picture Taryn trackless brushwork myself

(Taryn brushwork reveals Taryn Tiamat: salt sea Taryn who bore them mixed waters and I stir up Taryn’s guts salt sea rushing the walls.  Deep water hushed their noise / salt sea struck dumb.)

I start a picture and death inhabits the structures picture picture distant death structures.  I never finish the writing and its death catches canopies.  I do not finish and this sanctuary sisters every text a storyteller can tell.  I tell Taryn who devours desert death (tiger shark Taryn teeth teeth teach teeth nurse shark cartilage milk carton babies).  Taryn as shark gives birth to live young.  I borrow my authority from her giving death.

Unfinished bodies body monument renaissance bodies / ben body bounded bull unbounded

I evoke the compact spell of unbounded body (Her nude body was on display for the last time – in the morgue   End Of A Stripper)

I evoke the compact spell of the icon: picture icon unfinished iconoclasm


//
I never finish the writing  and Christina interrupts-disrupts-cut-intersections Book unfinished

(And I’m wasting my time    Issues never worth solving   All that there was there still is   And I’m watching my friendships and my love life dissolving and I’ll find out what there is   Maybe I’ll find out what there is)

I was going to wait for your birthday to reach out, but I miss you,  Friend, says Christina.  I don’t deserve it, but I’d love to catch up.  I miss you too, I say.  I would also like to catch up.  What is a good time? says C.  Anytime you’d like, I say.  What would you like to talk about?  How are you? says C.  I want to talk to you about your past year.  Not too bad right now, I say.  I’m in a good place.  But the first couple months without you were very hard, not only because you were gone but other big negative events happened at the same time.  What happened? says C.  I made a big nursing mistake back in April and it caused harm to my patient.  She did fully recover and I’m still working with her but it took a few months to build rapport back with the family and all that.  I can’t imagine the guilt, says C.  How did you cope?  Not well, I say.  My boss was very supportive though so that helped.  April to June was very hard without you.  I had a Christina mourning notebook I worked in for awhile.  After you messaged me in June, not as bad, but I still didn’t feel “normal” until after September to October.  That’s not to say I think you did wrong or I hold any grudge against you.  I’m just telling you how I felt at the time.  I don’t hold anything against you.  You can, says Christina.  I think we can work through any resentments.  I’ve been in hell, she says.  If there’s something unconscious, I will be honest and tell you about it, I say.  Thank you.  I want that.  I’m sure there’s resentment somewhere, I say, but after your last message, I felt relieved.  I felt more faith we would reconcile after that, I say.

I never finish the writing but finish this mourning of Christina and Kindred
//


I start with a picture and finish it     I start every creature wields YHVH word of god     Every letter inhabits each letter Yod-Hay-Hay- work of God     Every creature emanates creature word of god YHVH

Start the picture: picture partially sings the text and partially interprets the text through dueling instrumental passages.  Picture starts in picture cease mourning and celebrate in the prophecy of word: elemental word, godly word, primordial word.  I participate in the picture of word-music.  Start the picture in mania mixed with melancholy and I prophesy KRYSXTRYN + Asia Among Rivers painting rivers bold body pigments

I never finish the writing but partial writing fragments travel-trace human bodies (bank bodies birch beat ‘em up birch body hack n’ slash slash stash stage sturgeon bodies)     I partially interpret bodies bank rock mock blood ram run (ray run the red caravan on the edge of the nail)

I never finish anything




Dead End No Outlet

I read or misread a slight crack in the gas line     I read or misread they had fallen asleep and were inhaling smoke

I misread my body (bodies brushwork juicy and brusque)     Bodies brushwork chariotwork bold pigment wheel word     Bodies ben fill in the shaped fuzzy edges (I misread body – my body – dead end dead end dead end.  I read my body – my body brash and rushed brushwork – misread dead end dead end dead end.  Body not outlet outlet no outlet lake body dead end.  I sink my car into the lake and it’s not a lake but an ocean.  Ocean fucks with fire no outlet.  No outlet dead end no outlet bodies bunch / bundle / tied-up branches)     I read or misread my body patchwork work quilt silt body archive (no outlet no outlet dead end)


//
Sometimes I see strange.  I see strange not quite dissociation but similar to the desert (desert no outlet dead end).  Forever, I see the desert perpetual desert   desert no clip   desert extended into desert – and I never sleep.  I see strange same Taylor Swift’s Cruel Summer.  I miss Christina and this summer I miss Christina (The barbarians drive us to the sea, the sea drives us to the barbarians; between these two means of death, we are either killed or drowned).  Either killed or drowned no outlet no outlet no exit dead end let the dead bury the dead.

I never die but write dime novels explaining perpetual desert and desert desert perpetuo moto (desert pizzicato pipe piccolo tobacco) suicide but I write to survive.  I write to survive John Coltrane’s My Favorite Things.  I write to survive revival revival text revival merry-go-round.  I never die although I like death (I saw with my own eyes the Sibyl at Cumae hanging in a cage, and when the boys said to her, Sibyl, what do you want?  She answered, I want to die.).  I do not die and I never die but I grieve grief and outer space grief and grief spiral galaxy / cosmic ladder star lattices (I hate my body I hate the desert I’m going hard myself when will I be going home).  I do not die and I never die.  Only Christina dies – only the Kindred dies.  Dead end dead end no outlet no exit dead end.
//


I read and misread a slight crack in the gas line     I read and misread and I author my eating into my own death     I eat my death idolatry     I eat my death done black and bone black desert icons (I read my body razor diamond this is a dead end this is a desert.  I never escape desert and I eat desert no outlet bloodlet no outlet I misread my body basketcase body desert misreading.)     I eat my death black plague ben bubonic plague: no outlet only plague plague plus plague desert plaster     I misread my body exposed bone or bone beat certain blues and certain blue bathers

I misread my body desert desert disease and dense diseased bone / bone barters bone     (Bone blues bone then black paintings)

I misread my exposed bone as oracles and prophecies     I misread an exposed bone tumor body as Book and Bible

I eat serpent scripture but the serpent interior devours my body woman word and logos she lights the lights.  I eat my own death and I invent impossible icons (indirect icons   archons net armor but paranoids   not paranoids but the death of the author).  I misread death of the author and my own death in detail eats my authorship.  I eat my death reading and misreading and writing and rewriting.  Perpetual desert extends desert death of the of the author.  Death of the author reveals no limit and no outlet dead end death of the author dead end.

Every Reading Misreads

Every reading misreads     Every reading misreads Son of Man machine: Son of Man mars such shards miniature meteor showers

Every reading misreads my mouth fires and my mouth forests

I misread the marriage of heaven and hell minus metro     I misread the marriage of heaven and hell metro hell mixed media intermedia incesticide (intermedia interior decorate intestines)

Ready the Book idles improbably but misreading the Book merman impossible.  I read the Book with the intention of misreading, but Book consumes and consummates anew with any misreading.  I read the Book in the rupture of misreading and every misreading prophesies KRYSXTRYN + Asia Rhizome.  Book reads my body sandworms and breaker waves.  Book misreads ben bodies and bodies rupture all-welded steel – truss boxes clad in galvanized, rib-reinforced steel panels.

Every reading misreads / misread mercaptoacetyltriglycine     Misread mixed media magneto encephalopathy (no reading but measures disintegrating meters   meter metropolis Symphony scissor strings meter metro metropolis death of Superman)


//
Every reading mis/reads Christina and Kindred polyphony

Christina symphony / Christina sonata-allegro form (I read a Christina symphony like D+G’s A Thousand Plateaus: a movement is a tower and the icicle instant of Christina’s name

A movement is a moment the icicle instant of Christina’s name.  A movement is a moment Christina point against point / a Christina haunting hauntology counterpoint.  I write Christina and I rewrite Christina: I read Christina and I misread Christina point against (Christina ritual ritual rhizome misreading).

Every reading mis/reads Christina and I participate in a conductorless performance of the Christina symphony
//


I misread Book monsters (The ideal for a book would be to lay everything out on a plane, on a single page, the same sheet: lived event, historical determinations, conceptuals, individuals, groups, social formations… I attempt to write a Book of broken chains of affects and variable speeds: accumulations and transformations always in a relation / revelation to the outsider)     I write the open ring reading misreading     I write open rings reads misreads open rings open wings nigredo (blackness of putrefaction – nigredo purified by Azoth, the living spirit, which is extracted from quicksilver)

Open rings open wings wilderness woman / cain chaos nigredo life in cataracts pours down her cliffs


//
I prophesy these fragments-participating-fragments and fragments coalesce into Christina’s names

I prophesy Pistis Sophia, the slower curves and surfaces of Christina waves.  I misread her name in the Christina emanations (Truly my brothers and beloved ones, who have left father and mother for the sake of my name, I will give you all the mysteries and all the knowledges.  I will give you the mystery of the twelve aeons of the archons, and their seals and their ciphers, and the manner of calling upon them to go to the places.)  I place myself in the center of misreading: I place myself Christina’s name point against point pointillist Pistis Sophia.  I place myself pistis and porous pistis and pistis slate and limestone.

I prophesy her misreading for the sake of own names: Kindred X Cinder Kindred.  I prophesy misreading her names to conceal-reveal our seals and ciphers and our bodies bare the void additional cipher.

For the sake of my name names the single plane of place for the sake of her name.  Name Christina and CHRISTINA emanates our bodies sealed in all-welded steel truss boxes and in galvanized rib-reinforced steel panels.  Christina all caps CHRISTINA unseals the reading and misreading of Kindred: Kindred Son of Man machines machines Christina the Human One

I prophesy Pistis Sophia misreads (Christina time crystal (in condensed matter physics, a time crystal is a quantum state of particles whose lowest energy state is one in which the particles are in repetitive motion)
//


I misread night, nyx, and nigredo     Night names the enigma of open rings open wings

I just finished watching a show called Scavenger’s Rein, says Asia.  It’s an animated sci-fi about survivors that crash landed on a bizarre alien planet.  It’s really cool and has some of the most creative alien ecosystems I’ve ever seen.  Also lots of body horror.  One cool element is a robot who gains sentience because of the exposure to a kind of slime mold.  She gets destroyed and the planet rebuilt her, says Asia.  SLIME MOLD, I say.  That’s our vibe.  Is the planet sentient?  I don’t know, says Asia.  I was asking if it is a sentient planet because there’s a movie called Solaris by Andrei Tarkovksy that involves a sentient planet, the titular Solaris, and it attempts communicating with the human crew orbiting it.  I was thinking about how alien a sentient planet is.  Or how alien to human is anything besides human - we are so anthropocentric.  Maybe God is closer to Solaris than it is humanity.  I don’t think God is anything like humans, I say.

I misread night, nyx, and nigredo, and the planet is always night.  I live night and I sustain night, my own planetary misreading.  I misread my body as night (rigid frame core / earth core crosses   crosses steel frame and reinforced concrete).  I misread my body entirely night and it’s up animated sci-fi again survivors that crashes marker on a vocable alien planet.

(I read and misread open rings open wings)     Open wings misread open wings cain chaos nigredo     Open wings open wild her hyle and chaos – chaos, formed from the heat-moisture, frost, concealment, and dryness – misread open wings (I read and misread     Christina curled and compact in chaos, and her created pottery tendrils spread red attic / a light in the attic)

I read and misread Christina’s body horror and she emanates the slime of aeons and archons (Longer sentient maybe sentient on is crashed solar landed finished planet slime of survivors bizarre a and humanity)

I misread night, nyx, and nigredo (Ein Sof and Night of Orpheus     O night you black wet-nurse of the golden stars!  From this darkness all things from this world spring forth from nightly womb)     I misread this world alien god and night communicates the seals and ciphers of archons Christina communicates no closer to humanity but starfish buildings / compact chaos concrete

Every reading misreads planet animated by an anthropocentric crew     Every reading misreads Son of Man she scavengers



I Surrender Text Other Impossible Woman

I begin where I am, in the text, and I surrender to the text other     I surrender to other: I surrender text other impossible woman

I surrender impossible giving my giving over to her toward her uncountable other     I begin to surrender other not a cat scratch or signature     After all that absolute name / tetragrammaton triangle total Taryn: her two tablets witnesses     I give my giving over to her a god gods eleanor Elohim: Elohim counts toward her other other text begins innumerable (I surrender text and text tents into my body immediately architecture.  I surrender to her architecture and ancient architecture flashes immediately her and totally her.  I surrender to the text ancient of ancients without crossing her threshold.  I love her invisible and divine texts – impossible invisibility and impossible threshold and I breach her inaccessible architecture.)     I surrender impossible improvised texts ancient text textures


//
I begin where I am in the text always Christina

I write Christina light verse and I write absurd Christina poetry.  I write absurd-silly.  I underestimate how joyful and humorous and fun writing (and prophecy) can sometimes be.  A new task: write fun and dumb things.  Grieve Christina through murder ballads and dead teenager songs and absurd nonsense verse (What would Christina nonsense verse look like?  Christina Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Christina Through the Looking Glass.  I draw on Lewis Carroll to honor Christina’s memorywork)

Twas brillig.  Twas brillig shimmer cinders (an immelmann loop cat in)     I grieve granite Christina slam poetry / pottery

I begin where I am in the text always prophesies Christina
//


I surrender to other and I begin where I am in the text     I surrender to the love of my friendships and I give giving to her impossible other

It’s ok to be soft sometimes and feel a lot, I say to Asia.  Both of us feel a lot to a great intensity and sometimes it overwhelms us when we see the state of the world, and the world is hard and difficult.  I go back to that Bruce Lee quote of being like water.  Being flexible and conforming to the shape you need but also hitting with force.  The only way to overcome something that is rigid and hard is to be open and yielding and envelop it like a bacteria swallowing its prey whole… Embrace the intensity and passions and feelings so goddamn much about the world… It’s only with the open and inclusive and unconditional passion that the world is overcome, I say.  You’re right, says Asia. It’s still hard sometimes, she says.

I surrender to other her other everything reading misreads

I surrender to other woman impossible / every reading misreads     Impossible you need but also goddamn much about also goddamn much only     (I surrender to impossible water water unconditional flex flexible)

Only with the unconditional passion, I misread surrender: I misread impossible and this impossible explodes passions

In the when beginning text, bodies explode bar break bodies / bodies breaker waves sandworms     Worms capsule words replaceable crosses (I surrender capsule fitted with utilities and interior fittings before slipped to the building site / I attach crosses to concrete towers)

Every reading misreads only water open inclusive unconditional passions and some you need but also go be of us text impossible


//
I begin where I am in the text: I begin of the intensity and feeling so goddamn much about the intensities and the state of us freely like water (Being like water.  Being like water.  Being like water.)

A molten language or a flexible language molasses flood     Molten language research and development being like water intensities (water flexible mathematics)     Molten language research – each eat development (the midden, the middling, the meddle, the middle)

Experiment experimental Christina language: this language grieves absurd and silly     This languages exceeds bodies bar breaker bodies (Christina the cunt circus)

Christina circus clouds cloudy with a chance of meatballs circuses (both of us feeling like mis/reads passions and passions exceed ben adam breakers)     Body breakers begins where I am in the texts

Christina circus clarihews clang Christina clarion sonatina

Sonatina Christina slinks cricket music
Sonatina Christina sidewinds cricket hocket crickets
Sonatina Christina sapphires stinks cricket blowgun graphite

(Hardened carbon crab canon – what’s the difference between this poetry and Book -- is there a difference?  How to take the poetry as condensed and compact and concentrated poetry?)

Christina sometimes sapphires rondo (Rondo E. Honda)

Sonatine somnambulist bask botulism basketweaving      Christina sonatine catabolism cat-o-nine tails

Sonatine Christina cabbalist or catechism (Catholic Christina: in the beginning was the word whooping cough)

This writing fails but I can only fail impossibly.  Every reading of Christina misreads and I misread the Book.  I misread but I move and move and move be like water.  Fail unconditional passions.  I fail my body architecture and skyscrapers and experimental capsule apartment buildings.  Christina demands rewrites and rewritten rough drafts.  Delete your art and reuse and rewrite / destroy, erase, and improve.  I write and rewrite the name Christina – Christina my blacksmith, my coppersmith, my silversmith.

Begin where I am in the text and I surrender to Christina written and rewritten


//
I surrender to other woman impossible / I surrender to both of us feeling like water

I surrender to other I surrender to other woman impossible (It’s OK to be sing sometimes and feel a lot.  Both of us feel a lot, to a secret intensity and sometimes it overwhelms.  Us when we see the white of the first.  Impossible prophecies ecstatic intensity and passions so goddamn burr about the first.  Only with the open orthodoxy unconditional passion this hey first activates action)     I surrender to other woman and woman begins where I am in the text     I surrender to text texts Taryn Ancient of Ancients



Modular Capsule Bodies

I begin where I am, in the text     I begin where I when, in the texture text     I begin where where how I write, in the texture text taryn total

Begin where modular bodies / begin where modular units     Where modular bodies and modular units bodies varying sizes and configurations     (vary view window units units buildings vary)     Unit bodies vary sizes sizing bodies

I begin with the bodies in units and arrange the units into bodies configurations / constellations.  I link the bodies into eight concrete units.  Mixed-use residential bodies reinforce office tower bodies.  I begin in the act of the aleatoric apartment.  Body buildings interconnect and interlock to concrete towers.  My bodies interlock with stations of the cross: cross as capsule and cross combining to larger crosses and spaces.  Capsules connects to my bodies coupled crosses.

I begin where / when in the text textures     Capsule connects to my body collapses crosses / two main shafts with four high-tension bolts (mass produced bodies pus surplus plague     pus surplus plague play mass production)     Bodies bewilder building witches witches which she’s when

I Worship Free Improvisation Woman

I worship free improvisation woman     I worship free jazz word blessingway woman     I worship free form formless wild west woman     I worship her     I worship worship her     I worship

I worship immediate architecture.  I worship immediate architecture / murder sleep herder.  I worship architecture immediately in my body / bodies.  Bodies stack immediately to an embodied architecture.  I animate bodies as architecture: sweep shorter immediate architecture body animations.  Bodies build welded word complexes (inside the complex: a semicovered walkway connecting two sections of units).  Immediately I keep my body in the worship of architecture.


//
I worship the immediate architecture of the re/written

Writing occurs which is the detail, not mirage of seeing, as things as they exist, of directing them along a line of melody.

Christina crucifies experiment / Christina experiment

Writing occurs the detail of seeing.  Writing ocean the details of seeing.  Writing ocean the details of sea harmonies in sixes.  Writing ocean overlaps ocean sixths detail.  Sea sick I spew ocean writing.

The appearance of the art form as an object / I believe in the technique as the test of one’s sincerity     (The appearance of the form animates immediate architecture in the complex of partial objects / I worship the formless walkways of woman)

I believe in the technique of the text testifies passion passions passionate worship of woman

Christina crucifies written circumfession and I confess Christina crucifixions.  I crucify Christina confessions (this confessing ghost Christina, this comical confessing Christina holy ghost).  Christina crucifies cradle of civilization: Christina cradles crucifixion out of Africa.

I worship the immediate architecture of the re/written real re/written
//


I worship free improvisation woman immediately modular     Worship immediate modular form body building compositions (354 identical, prefabricated concrete forms arranged in various combinations, reaching up to 12 stories high)

Worship immediately modular: worship immediately aleatoric     I worship immediately aleatoric architecture (I gamble woodshed dice or roulette skyscrapers.  My aleatoric body animates immediate Kingdom of Heaven skyscrapers.  I arrange my bodies as prefabricated performance and I arrange my bodies compacted into concrete collages.  Bodies inhabit sixty-seven interlocking forms: connected walkways and landscaped terraces.)

I do not bury bodies but I bury buildings

I would like to get into more architecture, I say.  Here’s one of my favorite buildings.  It was designed by Tadao Ando.  The Church of Light in Ibakari, Japan.  It was built in 1989, I say.  Architecture is cool, says Asia.  I love design and art that mixes with the practical.  It’s the art of something that is used and how that use shapes its physical shape and design.  Yeah, I think that makes sense especially with you, I say.  Fashion and clothing is art and design mixed with practical.  I also think in the same way – I used to collect knives, which is design and art mixed with practicality, and now collect fountain pens which is kind of the same thing.  Applied arts and graphic design is underrated.  I might have told you this but Violet is studying graphic design in university.  The way she sees things is fascinating.  Like she can look at fonts and the size and kerning of them and immediately identify things about them.  Same with logos and such… Do you have any buildings or industrial design stuff you love?  I haven’t dove too far into that but I love mid-century furniture and Art Nouveau architecture and designs, says Asia.  I know that’s pretty basic, but they are fun.  I love the exposed legs and the fun curves of mid-century furniture, says Asia.  I know Art Nouveau but I’m not super familiar with mid-century furniture.  Shaker rocking chair [picture].  Shaker bureau.  Shaker furniture is the definition of beauty in simplicity and function [picture].  Shaker clock [picture].  [Asia sends a picture].  Love these chairs, I say.  I love that sofa set too.  Bring back turquoise furniture.  Bring back color in general, says Asia.  Agreed!  Color is its own language.  I wish I had more pink inks.  I would like to work with pink in my art more too, I say.  I also love the combo furniture like the chair table combos [picture], says Asia.  It’s nice when design is thought of collectively or holistically with its environment, I say.

I worship free improvisation woman     I worship free jazz blessingway woman     I worship her love always slips away woman and I surrender into the impossible


//
I worship among the heaps of bricks and plaster immediate architecture     Among the heaps of bricks and plaster lies a girder, still itself among the rubble (a girder itself among the rubble you have exposed to get in simplicity and art and art nouveau)

Christina crucifies circular ruins ruin rubbish rubble (marble crucifixion concrete incomplete)     Christina crucifies circular ruins     ruins     Ruins I love the design mid-century furniture

Christina crucifies crucifies a curling iron crux crux crucible candelabra (candelabra abracadabra)     Christina crucifies the letters and letters lace loud loud tying their shoelaces (What is the point of the writing?  Pointillist and surreal kontra-punkte hardcore punk.  The point of the writing is to experiment / the point of this writing is to grieve Christina.  The point of this writing is to worship immediate shaker chair architecture / the point of this writing is to rejoice rejoice Kindred.)     I reside in immediate architecture shakes modular bodies / bodies grieve agrees chair that makes mixed with     I grieve green leaves greaves and other armor Christina wore (Christina appears as absurd apparitions american apparel radioactive apparatus.  Christina shouts radio gaga glossolalia.  I speak her tongues the speculum that doesn’t shine.)

I would like to get more into architecture.  I manipulate text and building materials – concrete, steel, glass.  That book you have is room.  Here’s one of my botanist deadlines.  It bugs deters by Tadao Ando.  I built the bugs in 1989.  I get more into architecture modular worship and aleatoric buildings buoy collapses free jazz.

Immediate architecture: to experiment with small letters and difference between letters     Towards experiment with small letters: small letters signal p-punk pheromones (The temple is one of many tombs created by God to imprison the malevolent Nephilim, but the site’s inhabitants has the ability to possess the scientists.)

Through experiment small letters and minimal letters ladder-lattice letters to experiment immediate architecture (mad furniture worship   mud furniture worship   ship woman submarine ben beneath worship)     Small letters dwelt animal pelt shotgun pellets

I worship submarine among underwater lakes and soap seaweed: I word thick water worship her steel babel brick spirits
//


I worship free improvisation woman     Worship arrange the bodies prefabricated performance art (I arrange bodies concrete keep collect / worship interlocking furniture-body arrangements)     I do not bury bodies but I bury buildings

I begin where I am, in the text     I begin where I am I when, in the texture text     I begin where with how I write in the texture text Taryn total     (I begin where modular bodies and modular unit bodies varying sizes and configurations.  I picture those chairs or holistically, with logos and fun.  I love a look)

I begin where I am in the molar body molds and I begin link bodies eight concrete units     (Begin mixed use residential bodies and office tower bodies

I begin where worship aleatoric apparitions     (Architecture is meat.  I love sonnets art that karakul with the practical.  It’s the art of disasters is iron old her that uses shaped it’s tritones shape old sonnets.)     Bodies buildings interconnected concrete towers and the cross capsule connects and combines larger crosses and space


//
I mourn a pointillist Christina and the particulates of her body splatter pigments

I mourn Christina pink laser beam pigments.  Christina radiates a disjunct solar anus.  Christina radiates solar anus midnight radio (I mourn midnight: midnight melody and Taylor Swift’s Midnights).

I worship Christina free improvisation mourning     I worship Christina free jazz mourns pointillist woman and immediate architecture pigments     I worship Christina’s love always slips away woman and I surrender into her impossible

I Almost Abandon The Alphabet

I almost abandon the alphabet for I reabsorb alphabet and alphabets into the inner conjunctiva of my eyes.  I absorb the letters into my liner and letters light body letters fuck red

I almost abandon alphabet alphabet abyss almost abandon.  I abandon almost and instead of the almost alphabets, the full alphabet.  I accept the full alphabet and the in/complete alphabet.  I reabsorb full alphabet full red flesh.  I absorb alphabets into my eyes and nasal cavities

I absorb the letters into body liners and membranes and letters light skin lacerations.  Letters lights listening body lovers fuck red.  I trace unpaced red (I experiment red ruddiness into red.  Red red six – eight grove groove in the red alternative rock.  I hear the Foo Fighters on the classic rock station and I feel old).  I feel the void red redden alphabet abandon I live in experiment of red and I surrender to redder red full alphabet abandons.