not visa versa
soul spoke to me this morning
slice-moon poking in side window
sun through the front fumbling for purchase
there something to hold onto
seven years of searching find me right where I left off
not wax, not brush, not color, not pages but
shear sensitivity of skin
translucent against the bright white soul attached
yet also, and, there,
stretched out across the sky
not here to fetch it back or getting to know it better
it exists and flourishes thanks
to this skin, going about the day by day
learning maybe just a little bit that this is all
right. enlightenment like god is a construct
a good one and not for the faint yet manufactured
so that we can realize we are here
moon and sun, skin and bone-
body. the reason that soul
gets to