Birth
When was I born? A blue warm placental answer is: always,
Within time questions of instance are relative,
The beginning is a chasm filled uncertainty-
A mellow ray of stranger light: a table for I, me and myself,
A warmer truth doesn’t engulf honesty, or swallow it whole,
Are paths to sensibility paths to conformity: you can’t crawl them,
Teachers I’ve known, contradiction texts and headless ideas,
Learning isn’t intestinal: digestion and perception are mutually exclusive skills.
Words and meaning: harmony routes to existence,
What is imperative? Chaos or subjugation: subtle indentations,
Festival coloring hides cancer skeletons stories: mirror surface living,
Reflections, cadences, query, is that breath or an excuse for questions?
If I wasn’t born, what was I?
A force isn’t accidentally productive; purpose is its parent,
My ends are string tied and semi-lost: if I have ends that is,
A journey isn’t the answer: since I’ve always been born with it.
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