Find each other,

the Invisible Committee urges us.

How do we find each other?

How do we

find 

each other?

Rows of black helmets with translucent face shields,

amber street lights wash out all color as the crowds undulate and morph like sea creatures,

time shifting, 

speeds moving between endless waiting and running towards the line of police motorcycles,

creating limbs.

The riot cops have blocked all the exits from the camp but one,

I try not to lose you,

because I won't let you be deported,

but we both want to be here,

staying close, we talk about Le Guin, the Dispossesed and Urras,

somehow our presence adds to both the fight and the safety

How do we find help

in the moment of violence

the surprising speed of assault

the silence of disappearance.

What if that violence is in our intimate places

or in our memories

or farther, out of our memories?

Can we make networks to respond

and not replicate violence?

Can we create new logics,

where we stop putting people in cages?

How do we find the ones

who will sow insurrection with us

protect us from violence

love and be loved by us 

satisfy our bodies?

How long do we have to grope in the indigo dark

put out signals

hurl out lines

before we find the one

or the ones

who our stories will resonate with?

Desire, dance and queer femme erotics,

it's impossible to notice anyone else when you move,

shared care for people named ill connected us,

we told each other stories in photos, words, films, 

light and sound connecting times in our lives and dreams, 

elastic bubble gum bonds sticking stretching across spacetime,

folding together our narratives until they touch electrically, and kiss, deeply.

How do we subsist, they ask?

In the face of deadly economics,

violent racisms,

multitudes of byzantine categorizations of our bodies and our lives,

how do we survive?

How can we build networks, relationships,

span the gaps between individuals,

create assemblages,

subnetworks,

glowing lines 

of connection and affection,

made visible with electroluminescence and soft circuits.

Bodies rushing through downtown LA nights, 

searching for pleasure in the flashing colors and beats.

Bodies running through Overtown at dusk, 

friends hunted by police.

How will these networks transform us?

How have they transformed us?

In sweaty riotous moments in massive crowds in 

Genoa, San Francisco, Cancun, Miami,

or sweaty moments in bed with our lover, as loud as a climax?

We are transformed by our networks,

and we transform and create them with our affections,

with the commitments we carry in our bodies and breathe out of our mouths.

What is the practical meaning

of deposing power locally

they ask?

How can we make time for ourselves,

in a world that demands our attention, thoughts and emotions?

How can we know when we've found each other?

When to let go

and when to build new homes,

out of which extend

fields of lines, curved, topographies of light, color, feeling,

moving outwards in waves across planes,

Are the networks we make,

the disturbance, the resistance and the goal?

Heat, warmth, love, rest, repose, safety, care, understanding,

all the things that power and capital can't offer

are right here in this bed

with our leopard print blanket

that smells like sex and home.

Finally, 

for the first time, 

home.