sunlight diary 

i used to say, "i'm not that radical"
but that was just me talking to 
the cop in my tower. i thought 
shrinking my desires could
keep me safe. it has in some ways
but i am actually 
interested in an upheaval. 
i want to worship the sun for real. i want
to share spoons with ghosts. i want 
to leave my doors open so that 
my neighbors can come & lay on the couch
& watch bad tv. i want buildings
full of beds to sleep & cafes where we eat
until we are caterpillars. i go out in the morning
without my skin. i rush back inside
to put it on. the moment of light
free of all the flesh felt like
swallowing an antidote. what would
it take for all of us to write on the sun
like a marble notebook? everyone i know
puts their dreams into little envelopes.
mails them to a fire on the other side
of the world. i want to open the earth.
converse freely with the bugs. i want
to bathe the moon for the first time
in a millennia. i do not need 
a new leader. a mayor. a president.
i need a root gallery where we can
get tangled like tree stones. curl 
our fists. throw all we have. fleshless 
& bare, we might know each other. 
our bruises in the sky as continents. 
we would say, "do you remember when
we used to survive on nothing
in the shadow of jewel swallowers?"
maybe we would choose to forget
& say, "no, how could anyone have
lived like that?"