Plural Fragment
Motion without movement'Inhabits sleepless space
Dreams of prophecy dying to live
The body is an ideal paradise
Find it, live it, lose it, lost in thought
As energy dies and is reborn in the moment
Being that is and at the same time is not
Being one and many parts become
A movement of motion
Stillness of explosion
Alone inside the plural.
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2021-11-29 at 06:02
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