July 12

This morning I spied a pip of skin on the tip of my forehead.
I tugged at this tag to rip it from the smoothness surrounding it.

As I pliered it away an invisible lip opened up to reveal a zipper.
Behind blood and beneath bone, inside capillary and behind organs.

I felt peril and at the same time ripe for this unfolding, for knowing.
The prize staring back at my were long sinews, bright and glowing.

No heart pulsed, nor vein, nor artery and yet they were pulsing.
Bones did not hold them up, as structure, and yet they were sturdy.

No law of science could explain, but the explanation was in knowing.
Beneath this we are light, we are a deeper spirit that longs for showing.

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A day is not done, until it's filled with words.

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