Still got pain, anxiety,
like a sheath of paper I bend over
with self-absorbed accounting

Simultaneously wrangling with it like
a barbed trap, yet denying its call
to be acknowledged

Forgetting being with
largely oblivious to the
circulating lovingness

The circulating lovingness of the
amniotic swish, the universe
around me

something that caresses,
like a cat’s tail touching my legs

A voice welcomed
like the savior of forgiving nutrition

Like being with and spreading open,
laying out my pain and healing it
with breathing air

Working on developing habits, relief
opening the sheath to let my tension dry out

Opening it
taking the stress
in my heart, my throat, my everything–
all that’s on the sheath–

I’m spreading it out
to let in relief

Not heroin in terms of being a numbed spectator

Rather, a lubricated spectator with
the aspirin of awareness

A sieve that soothes both its contents
and what goes through it

Grace of encountering
remembering, good habit,
applying learning,
being with

~ Lady

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