Everything that happens, does so concurrently... it's just the same energy in a different happening. If a single clap is meant to break a trance, the energy of the clap and the energy of the trance... wave and trough for the love of sameness.
Split streams running round a growing mountain, red wall sunset's crowning yoke. Birds of feather and bone, flying afterthoughts... this heart has been taken to itself. As soon exiting through the chest, or back... answered with every knock.
As the first rigid ripple of a raindrop, why-why-why-ing water...and the poured blood of a bloom upheld-- the Whole places its fingertip upon your most silent spokenness. Keeps it there... till release forgets the fingertip.
Your porousness easily kicks the light in and out of atoms. I seem to fall at your feet, the way a wave transfers its travail to the stasis of sand. You personally saw to it...I fall in love with my impersonality. My dear Lord, you always want more for me.
There's a hand handing the gulf between each direction...palms sweat from the dance, yet are dry enough to grip the circle. Friction and cohesion, stirring reasons to be.
You pick a place and hide, thinking the world seeks you. The inside cannot hide from the outside. The outside cannot seek the inside...the game is wide open.