There’s this you in you merging wide into the infinity and seeping deep into the infinitesimal, from your immutable stillness watching the phenomenal you in a very hot turmoil—
He looks me in the face smiling. I listen to him—his words, like clean pebbles, tangible. The thundersquall subsides outside and a quiet creeps into the room, snuggling for warmth.
From a leak in the roof drips rain water into a copper ***.
I listen to him—his words, like clean pebbles, tangible.
And then each word you hear and each word you utter feel like clean pebbles, tangible...