The heart sees in it’s own rhythms
You have to learn to listen to the way your flesh prickles in warning, in anticipation
To the subtle difference between desire and fear as they run up your spine, speaking through each other
Pierced, sweetly speared by sudden stillness, now a cup, a fulcrum, a falling into being
You have to be willing to heed what calls you, to follow the path
In it’s slow, silent unfolding deep in your aloneness
Softening to that strangest sensation
we call simply

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