I can feel it; there's a wholeness to be had, and I cannot get full from what is currently in front of me.
There's a nourishment to be obtained; there is a need to be addressed and attended, just the same as a patient with a wound that will not close.
Only this one goes without alarm. Or, really, it's a silent vibration, a pulsation that can only be felt by one; but it is an alarm call that plumbs the air, alerting someone, a particular anyone, that the distress is real, that the need is great, that it's not enough to be clean and pure, but rather, we have to get wet, to get dirty, to be blended, because without the danger there is no beauty.
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