poem with exercises: the dream of the dream of the fisherman’s wife

content warning: smut, lack of clear purpose or meaning

image: from The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife by Katsushika Hokusai

Poem:

When the octopus makes love,
it can close its eyes,
but not the eyes of its eyes.

Opsins freckle its skin,
the same receptors that quiver
when your eyes look to see.

Each tentacle graze is a glance,
a continuous blurry kiss
blurring the colors of you.

It moves in the deep
to feel if another looks.
Locked limbs lock gazes,
and your warmth looks back.

~~~~~~

Exercises:

1. look at something around you and imagine you are thereby touching it

   1. look at someone around and so let yourself touch them

   2. the next time someone looks at you, let them touch you in the looking

2. imagine what it would be to in some sense “see” the light that touches your skin with your skin

   1. first, just its brightness

   2. now its color

   3. and now the contrast

   4. but not the edge!

   5. roll up your sleeves and “look again”

   6. let your midriff peek

   7. have you ever mooned someone?

   8. think of moonlight,

   9. moonlight wobbling in the water

   10. not on top of the water, like you see from the beach

   11. moonlight in the water

   12. deeper

   13. deeper

   14. a little deeper

   15. let the wobbling of the moonlight through these, its various depths, be a winding tentacle of looking, touching every slither step along its downward search

   16. now look up

   17. look at the same someone or something from exercise 1, but let yourself touch every wobbling, intervening step from that something or someone, starting at the light of them and moving back, slither step by slither step, back to the eyes of your eyes

3. repeat 1-2, while making love