To start with . . .

She wandered in

from the slur of her speech.

She put space between her sentences

that was filled with

something extraordinary.

It was as if she was showcasing

with her silence.

She could have been tired or drinking.

In either case,

they were a front for something else.

It was like

two distinct and different people

in one body

and alternately appearing,

but in different ways,

one with topic and conversation

while the other

with silence and presence.

It was a stretch to not interrupt.

This odd continuity

had one of them disappearing

while the other emerging.

I wanted to talk with the one

who did not speak

and of course

just stare at the one

who constantly verbalized.

I felt myself splitting,

by apparently a different means.

I was torn between what was apparent

and what was revealing.

I was being pulled

in two very different directions

from within,

maybe even into two of me

but somewhat simultaneously.

It was a kind of identity vertigo

in which I am bored, steady,

and yet curious, spinning.

I felt obliged to respond

in like kind conversation

but could not care or connect

to the topic at hand.

Sort of like my response would be,

“what did you say?”,

so as to re-gather myself

for a real response

but silently yelling

at her other presence

that needed no words!

I guess eventually,

I was willing

to leave the words behind

for the both of them.

In general, I just reached

for the presence more fully.

This was awkward to me.

I felt like

I was missing familiar body parts

and questioned

just how did that come to be?

Given how uncomfortable

as it initially felt for her,

I imagined

that I was getting something

like an airborne flu

in that invisible way

it is passing from one person to another.

Only this was not really a flu

but possibly an altered state of some sort.

I had nothing to share

in terms of experience.

This was mostly inward and settling.

Not even this other person

was the focus in time.

It was just now an environment

from within me

though it appeared common to her

when I infrequently checked,

until I didn't bother to check at all.

No, this wasn't sexual or vibes,

or striking or phenomenal.

It seemed natural but unfamiliar,

at least by circumstance.

It was sort of like a spell

but expansive and not anxiety producing.

It had permission

but there were no questions asked.

It felt connecting

but there was no apparent movement.

To me, it was solid

and surely from a different place

in my being then this place

that usually liked a context

to be sustained as even from before.

Maybe it was like,

we were both breathing

the same marine air

or had just approached

the base of a powerful waterfall

and we were both taken by the air

there was to breathe.

Yet nothing obvious like that

was around or appeared to happen.

I could have easily imagined this

as a spiritual experience.

But I was not overwhelmed

with particulars impressing me.

It was better than a dream

but very dreamlike in impact.

There was an intimacy

but without a beginning or context.

It gave me a sense of self-embodiment

without even a change in posture

or physical movement at all.

It was somewhere between a realization

and a recognition,

as in having properties of both.

It was as an unfolding process.

I am sort of cheating

in saying these things after the fact.

It was clearly a 'you had to be there',

but now, somewhat a memory.

I never got her name

but she was as familiar to me

as my feminine side.

I cannot place her,

anywhere else in my life.

I don't really remember

the initial circumstances

under which we met.

I would have to ask someone else

where this place was

where this occurred,

or if this was really

a genuine occurrence for me.

I guess I came away without separation

or at least without a sense of closure.

It lingers, even to this day.

I now can go there with ease.

At worst,

it is like a fourth dimensional tattoo

that I can close my eyes and stare at

until the energy door opens.

And there I am

but without a place to declare

or any context to release to be there.

It overwhelms everything

by being nothing

and so it displaces nothing.

It does not interfere

with whatever is going on.

Everything is

just more expansively observed

and held open

with less sharp edges

or critical conclusions

or self-abruptness.

It has no end.

I can kind of make myself identify it

with breathing in a certain way

to feel for its presence

as if it is around me

in the way you'd respond

if someone asked you

to smell for something specific.

You know, that kind of breath intake

as if your sensors could tell more clearly

by that method.

I am so used to stimulation and contrasts

as finding me evidence

that there are times

I have to check myself to see

if I am still sort of conscious with it.

I would say

that this does not go well as an event

or to phenominalize about it.

I'm guessing

that I am speaking

all together around it now

and you either have it

or have access to it

or you don't.

And, if that is the case

then this is all strange

and got real boring a while ago.

If not dismissible already,

like I said,

she wandered in

from the slur of her speech.

And I noticed that amazing silence

that was filling the spaces

between her words.

But right now,

we are here, only right here.

And I have no idea

what that original topic was

or the point of this conversation was

to start with . . .