Expanding. . .

Closing my eyes and

drifting off into the dream of myself I considered carefully my potential body, its posture, flesh and gaze.

Sister said: Your poetic self is all about expansion, and yes, I agree, but I also feel it is as much about exclusion. Exclusion of the debris that keeps my heart from reaching its tentacles into the world, to other hearts. Or is it the other way around?


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