Flesh, Growing

You don't understand what it feels like, to know that the flesh of a past person has been left behind you. My spirit has grown into something else. It's a container that I don't understand. Right now I feel like tiny bacteria that have simply spread to touch the surface of a pool, miles deeper. This is painful to my old body. Nothing pained, nothing gained.

The pool of this music is so much deeper than the tones within. It has a movement, too. The notes make vibrations in the air. There is no break between my body and the music. It is light, and sound. Mere particles, but not merely.


The day will come. My hour will be here. I just have to believe. I'm not leaving.

Fear is only a test. You will fight the war of art. Even keel now. There will be more. I wait for the time now, because my eyes are so darkened.

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