Delicately woven patience sculpts structure through visionary form.
I feel into the depths of the porous precipice and trust.
Breath breathing me inwards.
Vibration purring within the intimate walls of my bones.
Within the dance of times spiraling convulsions I find acceptance.
Shiva’s drone echo’s. Echo’s in the space between the cavernous stone. The space between chaotically spewing spasms and elegantly lush braids.
Tasty, sweet, thick blood wraps its embrace around my limbs. A branch extending from the shallow still point within the hollow earth.
I rise in exasperation and fall and fall and fall. Expanding and contracting into a nebulous billow of dust. Ash. Bones. Scattered through the floor. The treasure chest of stories housed in physical form.
I ask to feel the patience of my bones. Journeying willingly into the sensations beyond duality. Suckling the honeyed marrow into my soul I taste the sweetness of immortality beyond human form.
Diving deep into the pools of my waters I trudge through mud beyond muck and become a form of clay.
A lost world of sculpted white perfection. Held in secret beyond the surface.
Enter the void I dare myself.
I feel safe.
I feel flesh and cold and fire. Breathing breath into me I rise into the exploration of my hollow bones.
Surreal pleasures entice my minds eye and expose the moments of empty doubt. Moving in this dance of experimentation I exercise the joints of creation.
Spoken word moves through her fingers. My fingers. Sounds of quiet and night and tapping carrying me tonight into dreamy slumber. I am within me. I am water.
I am ash and bone and breath. Fire burns the core of me and somehow from somewhere the ancients sing their song.
I linger, savoring the taste and smell of fresh life.
Renewal and rebirth.