trance is one of our words.

this afternoon, knowing that I cannot drown out the clamor of my thoughts, knowing that I cannot move you into the background, knowing that there are intimations of paradox in our worlds that had suddenly merged, knowing that there are chances of going back to the void, I have to stop knowing; and forget and only feel.

I press play instead and feel the woofers hum before the music comes on, then I play it loud enough to drown out the world and even the sound of my breathing; and as the bass thumps against my chest, and I forget reason, and logic becomes unbound three minutes into it and I close my eyes and see you there.

Then there is no heat of summer, and I only feel the syncopations going through me, going through me, layer by layer and pulse by pulse. I let go and forget myself, and go on folding time and go on folding space to keep somewhere where even most memory cannot follow. I keep moving and I have no idea of where, I go where the music goes and my heartbeat keeps rhythm like an internal mix of its own. This is not vision anymore because I can see in the darkness, and when I open my eyes it is the same. So I keep them closed and go on shifting and moving and somewhere along lose the certainty of gravity, the certainty of realness and the certainty of almost everything in the daze of this 4/4 beats. In this exquisite deconstruction and abstraction, that is now beyond beauty, I forget almost all.

But the body reminds and you are there and we move, our bodies glistening, holding, twisting around each other, liquefying in this trance, and going where we have been before but forgotten now in this dream that has forgotten to fade, because we are now our own strange attractors, dancing into our very own fractals.