The on and on of skin and breath and the drop of the way down deep. So deep it is, inside the body it is — this dance — that the world outside disappears and all we are left with is the body. The focus and the feeling are suspended and held in a time of opening. Pulled right in to the center of a world that is no longer there, but still, so very much, our own.

Nothing

then momentum.

Nothing

then something.

Nothing

then clarity.

Nothing

then spiral. Then sound in spiral.

Then portal open the spiral is endless and opening, forever.

Patterns of body and breath in the world.

Shape world.

Shape brain and madness and crazy.

Shape crazy.

Patterns, this portal, this nothing, this breath

that is everything.