Image: Elena Ray
Sweet Spot
When did a single deep breath equal ecstasy?
When did the tender aches of the body
become sweet comfort?
When did the fatigue of personhood
transform into fathomless gratitude?
When did imagination bow
to universal truth?
When did *I* rise up as nothing?
When did love have no meaning
and was everything?
Now.
In between starting and ending,
When did a single deep breath equal ecstasy?
When did the tender aches of the body
become sweet comfort?
When did the fatigue of personhood
transform into fathomless gratitude?
When did imagination bow
to universal truth?
When did *I* rise up as nothing?
When did love have no meaning
and was everything?
Now.
In between starting and ending,
I am.
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