There (Preface To Transgression, M. Foucault)

There,
for I can only speak of there, never here,
here there is no language,
I open my mouth
and make a noiseless sound
which only you can decipher
by the shape of my lips.

There,
in the barrage of strobe
I flicker in and out of existence
to the rhythm of your breath
and the thrust of your hips.
I make of you a binary language
of spasms, held together
in a grammar of viscera.

There,
you are a god I kill repeatedly
man / god,
you / not you,
dead /alive
trapped in the sticky amber
of that quantum matrix.

There,
past the bright line
you and I have made sacred
in the crossing, past reason,
we are momentarily
unnameable creatures.

There,
where there is no air
and time is bent
I know who we are
in the moment of our coming and going,
venereally.

(upon reading “Preface to Transgression“, in Language, Counter Memory, Practice by Michel Foucault (1977) )

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