Moten, yes—you’re right to flag him. He dances (deliberately) with the concept of ownership, especially in how it relates to Black life, fugitivity, and non-sovereign being. In The Undercommons, and in parts of Consent Not to Be a Single Being, ownership becomes a kind of violence—of capture, of enclosure, of the subject being made legible to the regime of property. For Moten, the refusal of ownership is sometimes a refusal of being owned but also a refusal of owning oneself in the liberal-humanist sense. That’s radical. It makes space for entanglement, blur, even for what he calls “blurred ownership” or shared displacement.

Agamben, as you noted earlier, tends not to focus on possession explicitly. But his notion of inoperativity gestures toward a kind of deactivation of functions—including the function of ownership, mastery, and use. Think of The Use of Bodies—a body that escapes being-for-use escapes the very logic that makes ownership intelligible.

Simone Weil, though not speaking in contemporary political language, does write beautifully and terrifyingly about affliction severing a soul from the world of rights, power, and possession. In that severance, she finds a kind of purity—not idealizing it, but marking it as beyond the grasp of domination.

Glissant speaks of opacity—the right not to be understood, not to be made transparent or possessable by colonial or epistemological regimes. That’s a form of unownability, I’d say—because ownership, especially in the colonial-modern world, always demands clarity, exposure, accounting.