Wide hum thrum
sternum purrs, om old cat
My legs, torso, heart,
Feel the pulse 
of blood stream stone silence 
the way in the way 
through the way forgotten,
re-membered through bone, not brain 
through skin and tones 
breath calling you home 
calling you 
home
where ya been girl? Kept a pot
on for ya just in case
this family of tones, vibration of this 
simple thing yes 
you can have this yes you can 
be no need to everwhelm them 
from the place they’re calling from
 
 
I love your poem. I write unconscious in early morn, in dark. But this one, I feel like I'm traveling inside the wetness of humanity. Vivid
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