Poseidon, I pray.

Helpful, that I should rediscover this right now. Hail, my Lord. So silly to have such small fears, so silly to not remember *such* love.

Strip Me Back to the Bone

This space is timeless, as it promises to be, and the stillness, at first, is tranquil. We are lazing about, as we do, beneath the sun whose brilliance reaches into our bodies that go beyond flesh, and warms the atoms of our atoms. The universes spin around inside of us, each one touching countless others, coming together to form skin that can house our flesh and bones and blood. My flesh and bones and blood and spirit, and what amounts to the same in You, I suppose. This space is timeless, and this place is timeless, and there are forms within forms and also only hints of forms. Shapes that collapse, that dance, that never stay still, that are only there because we think they’re there, until we look and they’re gone. Or they’ve grown firmer. Or they’re both never have been and always were. This is a space for…

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