I promise to make you more alive than you have ever been
For the first time you’ll see your pores opening
Like the gills of a fish
And you’ll hear the noise of blood in galleries
And feel the light gliding in on your corneas
Like the dragging of a dress across the floor
For the first time you’ll note gravity’s prick
Like a thorn in your heel
And your shoulder blades will hurt from the imperative of wings
I promise to make you so alive
That the fall of dust of furniture will deafen you
And you’ll feel your eyebrows
Like two wounds forming
And your memories will seem to begin with the creation of the world.