born without name to ourselves
born of
? living green grace ?
a process that churns out
stars and frogs
lattes and little fish
breathless in the ocean
learning happens
a new pattern
a fresh creation
a name
me:she
holding to the me
as separate- as outside this living green grace -
starts a pattern
that moves towards rock
in terms of self-knowing
holding to the me
as separate- as outside this living green grace -
is a dream of two
and the pattern of hurt arises
it isn't true
that nothing can touch you
bright eyes?
check.
where do you end and the world begins?
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