Payton Selby

I’m choosing to believe life is happening wherever I am.

Not in some other corridor or through the left door.

Life is just as beautiful in my own eyes;

there must, then, I believe be greater views than my reflection in yours.

Choose instead to admire the horizon the slopes, the valleys the circumference around your own mind

Occasionally, however They speak of this fabled Meeting of The Minds poetical justice within the soul The meeting of infinite ancestors converging in a tangible tangled cosmos

This is when we, for the first time, are not better off alone.

We must, you must—in these moments, look around and know we are in the midst of things. This Is It, and all it is.

Life itself is at your fingertips a rare malleability of the immaterial soul.

Hold tight here for there is only life, right here and there is death, off in the corridor to the left.

Alive in synchronicity and spite with the leaves and logs and yet all at once with the dirt.

As much as we are worms, and gunk in the dirty underneath, equally we are the sun after rain and the misty fog that beckons dawn.

On the brink of heaven and the land of sunken sun Either mother her nature or christ, and his spirit or dusty parcels of this greatness.

If ever I am gone, do not search in sand. You wont find me there in such a crowded place.

In my music, in my books and their margins in my words, and the spaces between them you will find my soul there, laid out

Bleeding and bleeding and breathing and breathing

waiting still for its match.