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 Dec 2023
Karijinbba
Re married twin souls.
November 1974- 2025- Sonnet 75.

The two of us re-married
RDD=BBA JPC=ASG, we became one
my first true love and I again;
one of countless times
rddbba style.

Joy and happiness
is all we know
as we lay beneath the starry sky
One promise fulfilled at a time.

Our pain is nothing
but distant
and faint memories.

Our boundaries know
not a single enemy.
Not a single foe remains
alive.
Our friends are
a legion elites.
~~~~
By:Karijinbba
All rights
(Thanks for reading love you all friend or foe)
~~https://youtu.be/kPUxdt1FZRY?si=x9SBCfGYXB_0-Csa
#marriage #anniversary #wedding #paris #dubai #mexico
Continue reading...
 Nov 2023
The Sick Red Carnation
" π‘‡β„Žπ‘’ 𝐡𝑖𝑔 π‘Šπ‘œπ‘œπ‘‘π‘¦ π‘ƒπ‘™π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ "
𝐼 π‘π‘™π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘‘π‘’π‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘ π‘’
𝐼𝑛 π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘ π‘šπ‘’π‘™π‘™ π‘œπ‘“ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘Žπ‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘”
𝐴𝑛𝑑 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›π‘‘π‘ ,
πΆπ‘Ÿπ‘’π‘ π‘π‘’π‘›π‘‘ π‘šπ‘œπ‘œπ‘› π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘
π‘‡β„Žπ‘’ π‘‘β„Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’π‘’ π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘’ π‘π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘›π‘β„Žπ‘’π‘ ;
πΉπ‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘š π‘”π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘›π‘‘π‘šπ‘œπ‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿ'𝑠 π‘“π‘™π‘œπ‘€π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘¦ 𝑣𝑒𝑖𝑙,
π‘‡β„Žπ‘’ π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘šπ‘Ž π‘œπ‘“ π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘›π‘”π‘’ π‘π‘™π‘œπ‘ π‘ π‘œπ‘š 𝑖𝑠 π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘šπ‘π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘...
𝑂𝑓 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘“π‘™π‘’π‘ β„Ž π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘π‘œπ‘›π‘’π‘ ,
π‘‡β„Žπ‘’ π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘šπ‘Ž π‘œπ‘“ π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘›π‘”π‘’ π‘π‘™π‘œπ‘ π‘ π‘œπ‘š 𝑖𝑠 π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘šπ‘π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘...
𝐴𝑛𝑑 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’
π‘Šβ„Žπ‘–π‘‘π‘’ π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘›π‘”π‘’ π‘π‘™π‘œπ‘ π‘ π‘œπ‘šπ‘ 
𝐴𝑛𝑑 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’
π‘‡β„Žπ‘’ π‘‘π‘€π‘œ π‘€β„Žπ‘–π‘‘π‘’ π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘›π‘”π‘’ π‘π‘™π‘œπ‘ π‘ π‘œπ‘šπ‘ 
π‘Œπ‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘šπ‘œπ‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿ 𝑖𝑠 π‘Ž
π½π‘Žπ‘ π‘šπ‘–π‘›π‘’ π‘ β„Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’π‘ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘Ž π‘™π‘’π‘šπ‘œπ‘› π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘’
𝐼𝑛 π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘šπ‘–π‘‘π‘‘π‘™π‘’ π‘œπ‘“ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘€β„Žπ‘–π‘‘π‘’ π‘ β„Žπ‘–π‘Ÿπ‘‘
π΄π‘šπ‘œπ‘›π‘” π‘šπ‘¦ π‘π‘œπ‘›π‘¦π‘‘π‘Žπ‘–π‘™ β„Žπ‘Žπ‘–π‘Ÿ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘
πΊπ‘œπ‘™π‘‘π‘’π‘› π‘’π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘Ÿπ‘–π‘›π‘”π‘ ...
πΉπ‘Ÿπ‘’π‘’ π‘“π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘š π‘›π‘Žπ‘šπ‘’π‘ ;
π‘π‘œπ‘‘ π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘”π‘–π‘ π‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘ 𝑖𝑛 π‘‘β„Žπ‘’
π΅π‘–π‘Ÿπ‘‘β„Ž π‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘‘π‘–π‘“π‘–π‘π‘Žπ‘‘π‘’;
𝐴𝑛𝑑 π‘Žπ‘π‘ π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘π‘‘π‘–π‘œπ‘› π‘šπ‘’π‘Žπ‘›π‘  π‘π‘Žπ‘™π‘™π‘œπ‘œπ‘›πŸŽˆ
π‘‡β„Žπ‘’ β„Žπ‘Žπ‘π‘π‘¦ 𝐿𝑖𝑙𝑦 π‘“π‘™π‘œπ‘€π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘ ...
𝑀𝑦 π‘œπ‘£π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘¦ β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘‘π‘ 
π‘†π‘π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘€π‘  π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘› π‘“π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘š π‘π‘’π‘‘π‘’π‘›π‘–π‘Ž
π‘‡β„Žπ‘’ 𝑓𝑒𝑑𝑒𝑠 π‘œπ‘“ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ 𝑖𝑠 π‘π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘›
πΉπ‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘š π‘šπ‘¦ π‘”π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘’π‘› π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘¦π‘’π‘™π‘™π‘œπ‘€ π‘€π‘œπ‘šπ‘
𝑀𝑦 π‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘Žπ‘ π‘‘π‘  π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘“π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘šπ‘’π‘‘ π‘šπ‘œπ‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘™π‘¦
𝐼𝑛 π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘‘π‘œπ‘’π‘β„Ž π‘œπ‘“ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘π‘™π‘Žπ‘€π‘ ...
π‘Œπ‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑑 π‘“π‘™π‘’π‘‘π‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘–π‘›π‘”
π‘€π‘œπ‘£π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘šπ‘œπ‘’π‘›π‘‘π‘Žπ‘–π‘› π‘œπ‘“
π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›π‘‘π‘ 
π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›π‘‘π‘  π‘π‘œπ‘šπ‘’ π‘Žπ‘™π‘–π‘£π‘’
π‘Œπ‘œπ‘’ π‘€π‘Žπ‘£π‘’ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘œπ‘“ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘™π‘’π‘Žπ‘“
π‘Žπ‘‘ π‘šπ‘’...
𝐼𝑛 π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ β„Žπ‘œπ‘’π‘ π‘’,
π‘‡β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’ 𝑖𝑠 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘”π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘’π‘› π‘”π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘π‘’ π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘’
π‘‡β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’ 𝑖𝑠 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘¦π‘’π‘™π‘™π‘œπ‘€ π‘ π‘’π‘›π‘™π‘–π‘”β„Žπ‘‘
π‘‡β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’ 𝑖𝑠 π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘ π‘œπ‘’π‘›π‘‘ π‘œπ‘“ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ
𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑠 π‘π‘™π‘Žπ‘¦π‘–π‘›π‘”...
π‘‡β„Žπ‘’ π‘”π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘’π‘› π‘ β„Žπ‘–π‘šπ‘šπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘œπ‘“ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ 𝑠𝑒𝑛,
π‘†β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘œπ‘› π‘‘β„Žπ‘’
π‘¦π‘’π‘™π‘™π‘œπ‘€ 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 π‘œπ‘“ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘’...
𝐼'𝑣𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑒𝑑 π‘π‘œπ‘™π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘“π‘’π‘™ π‘π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘¦π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘  π‘‘π‘œ
π‘Šπ‘’π‘’π‘π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘€π‘–π‘™π‘™π‘œπ‘€ π‘“π‘œπ‘Ÿ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’
π‘Œπ‘œπ‘’'𝑣𝑒 π‘‘β„Žπ‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘€π‘› π‘Ž 𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑐𝑒 π‘œπ‘“ 𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑒 π‘ π‘˜π‘¦
π΅π‘’β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘‘ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘”π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘’π‘› π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘¦π‘’π‘™π‘™π‘œπ‘€ π‘™π‘’π‘Žπ‘£π‘’π‘  π‘œπ‘“ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘π‘œπ‘šπ‘’π‘”π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘›π‘Žπ‘‘π‘’ π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘’...
π‘‡β„Žπ‘’ π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘’ π‘œπ‘“ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘“π‘™π‘’π‘ β„Ž,
𝐺𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘ π‘π‘œπ‘šπ‘’π‘”π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘›π‘Žπ‘‘π‘’π‘ 
π‘‡β„Žπ‘’ π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘’ π‘œπ‘“ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘“π‘™π‘’π‘ β„Ž,
𝐺𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘ π‘π‘œπ‘šπ‘’π‘”π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘›π‘Žπ‘‘π‘’π‘ 
π‘Œπ‘œπ‘’ π‘™π‘Žπ‘’π‘”β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘”
𝑖𝑛 π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘ π‘π‘œπ‘šπ‘’π‘”π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘›π‘Žπ‘‘π‘’ 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑠...
𝐼 π‘˜π‘–π‘ π‘  π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘”π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘’π‘› π‘π‘œπ‘›π‘‘ π‘“π‘–π‘ β„Ž
π‘œπ‘› π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ 𝑙𝑖𝑝𝑠...
𝑀𝑦 π‘ π‘œπ‘›...!
𝑀𝑦 π‘šπ‘œπ‘œπ‘›...!
π‘‚β„Ž, π‘šπ‘¦ π‘ π‘œπ‘› π‘œπ‘“ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘šπ‘œπ‘œπ‘›!
𝐼 π‘‘π‘œ π‘›π‘œπ‘‘ π‘π‘’π‘™π‘œπ‘›π‘” π‘‘π‘œ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘ π‘œπ‘π‘–π‘’π‘‘π‘¦...
𝐼 π‘π‘’π‘™π‘œπ‘›π‘” π‘‘π‘œ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘œπ‘›π‘™π‘¦....
حَیؒة🌱
Continue reading...
 Nov 2023
the dirty poet
DEAD KIDS
another day of israel
digging its own grave
their strategy of dead kids
is a real winner
of course
hamas keeps insisting
it wants to wipe out israel
a handy excuse
for more dead kids
Continue reading...
 Nov 2023
Coyote ugly
Mirror licks
I pull up to the stop
Sign and side-blow a little smoke
Out of the window.
Wait for the last burn
Of the cigarette
Then turn to green.

One glance in the mirror
And there’s a young woman
In a Tesla with long brown
Curly hair and bright red lips.
Singing like A Walmart movie star.
**** me now sighs.

We pretend to not play mirror lick.
2 minutes trinkets.

Though I sit up a little straighter
Suddenly self wrongsciouss
And then notice
That my hair is sticking
Up just like a who from whoreville
Ah **** it.

And she lets a smile out on bail
Though I think it’s probably
At the old man waiting to cross
With way too many Christmas bags
of shopping.

And we drive on this endless
Highway of hooks and tumours, one night stands
And one life stands
And pretty moments and heartbreaks and rebounds.
And winning lottery tickets.
And Cuban cigars.
And our hearts call room service
In dive motels.
And then we find someone to laugh with.

and my car is ****
And my hair is going silver
And I hit 40 like an uppercut.

And all of us patch up the cracks
And take the pins out of other peoples voodoo dolls
And dance with what we have.
And do our best to punch above
And throw a trick still.
Like everything was beautiful once
And now even if we fade just into accolades.

We wear a A lucky shirt
A new pair of shoes hung up on the telephone wires
A revenge dress to help undress
The bitterness

A little blue that changes colours
Sometimes
As we drive away

No more a stranger
Than we ever were before.
Continue reading...
 Nov 2023
nivek
to be
Led by desire-
hidden springs' to quench
-a thirst to love
a need to be- In solitudes
arms. All counts in loves
embrace. In loves sight.
Every desire to be-
every thirst to be found.
Continue reading...
 Nov 2023
Oceara Miedema
The rose is dying
There was a rose.
Heavy and wild.
Feeling like a tunnel or going down.
He loved sleeping under the stars.

She loved being in the painting.
But it doesn’t matter.
It’s just words.

What about the beer?
Special kind.
It really is.
Let me fly.
I’m just in here listening and loving.
We only dream when we sleep deeply.
Sinking.
Into all the real truth.

I love you,  I make you love me.
Cause you are all I need.
Like special beer and wine.
And all that’s good.
Nothing else is worth it.
Living for. 😒

There’s a rose.
And everybody loves her.
And she’s dying.

πŸ₯€πŸ₯€πŸ₯€πŸ₯€
16-11-23
Continue reading...
 Nov 2023
Eshwara Prasad
Unchanging Mind
The spiritual discourse was over, my soul felt so strong,
thought my mind was clear, but I was surely wrong,
But as I left the hall, rain poured with no remorse,
I cursed at life, as I walked back into the hall distraught,
I realised that my mind is a slave to the elements, not higher powers.
Continue reading...
 Nov 2023
Michael Marchese
When you Realize Nothing is Actually Wrong
Dusk settles in
On my grimmest despair
Of my guilty subconscious
I’m all too aware
Too fixated on quelling
The faith reservations
Uproarious tirade
Of self-confrontations
At war with
Internal conformist
Resent
I nocturnally wander
The wastes of lament
Not enough for
My suffering’s
Love hesitant
But sincere
What I actually feel
Is content
Continue reading...
 Nov 2023
Christopher Westra
Bloom and Grow Forever (Bitcoin Poem 074)
Bitcoin stash, bitcoin stash
Every morning you greet me
Wealth increase, bring me peace
You look happy to meet me

Patient and slow, may you bloom and grow
Bloom and grow forever
Bitcoin stash, bitcoin stash
Grow my money forever

Bitcoin stash, bitcoin stash
Every morning you greet me
Firm and true, thanks to you
You look happy to meet me

Treasure that flows, may you bloom and grow
Bloom and grow forever
Bitcoin stash, bitcoin stash
Grow my freedom forever
You can see this poem on a background here - https://www.bitcoinpoems.pro/delivery074BloomAndGrowForever.html
This poem can be sung to the song β€œEdelweiss” from the Sound of Music. The edelweiss flower grows in some of the toughest alpine conditions in the world.  Likewise, Bitcoin must survive and thrive in tough and adversarial conditions throughout the world.
#bitcoin #freedom #money #westra #wealth #free
Continue reading...
 Nov 2023
Ciel Noir
Samsara
flowers flying on the breeze

sunlight dancing through the trees

ripples moving through a stream

strange that this is all a dream


symmetry and synchrony

entropy and empathy

can't believe how real this seems

strange that this is all a dream
Continue reading...
 Nov 2023
girl diffused
medusa
I.

All I can say is that it is a hum
Reverberant, droning, consistent
Quiet thrumming along the surface
Stirs me awake and then it fills me with
Ichor and I sip, sip, and sip (until I'm drunk).

All I can say is that it is a hum,
Quiet droning, a hushed whisper,
Loud screaming inside the head,
A piercing headache, sometimes a discordant wail.

II.

You sit on the porcelain lip of the tub
Hooded eyes lowered, your fingertips
Pressed together like the steeple of a church

I think: Yes, this is what Renaissance painters modeled angels after. Your skin is like a rose-tinged alabaster, your cheeks Suffused with blood. The painter took a measured time with you.

"Do you honestly think you'll be okay on your own?" You ask.

Silence, she greets you.

III.

Hasn't my mother violently
Ejected me from the nest
I'm only a few months old, a nestling
Wings awkward and clumsy
Beak agape for masticated food
(I'm not ******* ready yet)
Ejects me
Her beak threatens to pierce my shell

This is dejΓ  vu.
I've conversed before
Different room, different domain,
Different speaker, a sicker listener
I'm as sick, sick as **** now

Mind, she hums, crescendo
Crescendo high like a choral piece
Orchestral, and this is resplendent
Everything is gleaming
Your face encased in a soft glow
Halo of light
Your face, cherubic,
His face, Romanesque, was sculpted like a Bronze Age statue.

"Your mother didn't give you the right set of tools. My mother at least gave me–" he falters.

IV.

I remember calling the ex 28 times in the span of 2 hours.
The policeman, he counted.
Thrashing on the floor, weeping like Persephone must've in Hades, like a fallen Mortal reborn as a minor goddess
Stripped me, he did though, of my wings
Avian feathers streaked with years-old blood

My tears, why yes, they're bleeding rivulets.
My ****-brown eyes alight on the bleach
Yes, sweet death

"Stop calling me. I'm ******* another ***** right now," the ex says.

V.

Memory is so faded,
Plays like a scratched and worn cassette tape

Mind is a-humming, humming, my mind is
Orchestral choir, church choir, Pentecostal
Now, I eat ichor, ravenous, now I am Closer to God and she is a woman,Β Β 
Draped in funeral attire
She weeps, soundless, a Seer

"I don't know," I say.

"The med isn't working," you reply
Cherubic face shifts and morphs
Melts into soft glow light,
One with the halo, is the halo

Nothing makes sense, everything else does too. My mind races, cassette tapes
Whirs, skips, images flash, I weep
Weep like Sisyphus
Eyes spilling rivers of penny-tinged
Crimson, sanguine ichor

One day he'll taste it and hate me,
Loathe me, the jade-eyed serpent
Poison-fanged
I'll clutch his scales until my fingers are Cut, welts, mottled bruises, fading scars
I will be punished, am punished
The illness, the eternal Boulder on the eternal hill, it rolls and rolls, my mouth agape

I await my cyclic fate ordained by the Higher God

VI.

How many men have I lured into the chamber?
Drunk on sweet wine or mead?
Petrified into osseous
Their gazes failing to avert from my Penetrative stare?

He was an errant General, beautiful but stupid, his mind a one way road, his temper unpredictable and flighty
Oh, how I loved the duality of him
We philosophized
Theorized on the Gods
Laughed at their follies
Wondered at the mysteries of the universe, Her deep annals

Oh, how I loved the physicality of him
Tight, corded muscle, his back like a Wound spring, Bronze hand
Grasping a silver sword

Hark! His rounded shield is lifted, my hideous reflection stares back at me
My eyes, widened, the cup of manna Clatters, soundly in the chamber
Reverberates
Bounces off my throne of skulls

How many men have I–?

VII.

"Can you honestly say that you can take care of yourself?" You ask from the place atop the lip of the porcelain tub. Your hands, a steeple, a church spire
Perhaps, you are a lesser God, perhaps we are all falling Lucifers, wingless, blinded by vengefulness and betrayal
Perhaps, he too is–?

"Am I an infant to you?" I ask.
The headache splits
The pain demands, claws at the side of my skull, dances across my nerves, liquid iron on my tongue

Because when did I?

Oh, Sisyphus you weep! You, who slaughtered so many!

Oh, Medusa, you wept, you beautiful serpentine harlot, you *****, you–
The choir is a strong crescendo, Ascending, ascending, ascending
Lowers like a thrumting and heavy bellow
Deep, rich, and full, timbre

"Everyone, all your life has said you were crazy, but I don't think you are, I–"

VIII.

The tapes skip, voices garbled, muffled, Indiscernible and distorted
Mind shrieks, lower now, quieter now, Barely audible, a fading whisper, your halo Recedes, soft glow dims

Your hands separate, the steeple, no, the Spire collapses.
Held breath hitches,
Serpentine tendrils become wisps of hair, Cloudlike

We are lesser gods, not quite mortal, not quite divine

The itch demands to be felt, protests
And I, I scream endless into a dark chasm
My voice, it does not call back to me
It does not–

"I don't know."
A/n: It's been awhile. Hello. This is the unedited version of "medusa." This is the result of me reading T.S. Eliot and talking to my dear friend about older contemporary poets.

This is the result of dream and haze filled nights and stressful but languid mornings.

Enjoy.
#free #form #poetry #prose #contemporary #abstract #visual #experimental #mental #health
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