Ancient Poetry

I am ancient

The kind of ancient that crushes skin into lines so deep that civilizations grow in the ravines

Don’t be fooled by reincarnation

Sometimes I feel like an ocean stuck in a vase told to keep a flower alive that’s dying when all I’m made to do it crash against constructs and drown the world in salty love

So when you ask me how old I am

My mind resites off recorded documentation programmed into me at birth while my soul silently beams star light across eternity

And I live for the moments when the shell I wear for safety like a camouflage jacket supposed to make you look like the forest finally is abandoned for naked truth of what we really are

Not everyone likes skin to skin

When proper pretending in the spell of a language designed to kill the soul and body finally twists off my tongue for good like a corkscrew off the bottle of red wine that’s made from mystics blood…then I’ll tell you the secret truth

I’ll pull you into yourself and we’ll walk deserts made of star dust and gasp in the sparkles of remembrance like we’ve been starving since the beginning of time

Because we have been soul starving since the clock began our race away from spacious grace

So now I slip out of things that are born and die

I am ancient

In a time beyond timeless

And I am here to carve eternal civilizations from the wine of my veins