What of this boundary? This thin skin that keeps my bitter sweet bloody heart from falling to the earth. Outside of me. Why this containment of thought? Can't you see what I think of this and that?
Why not turn it all inside out? Bring the out in?
Give the in to the out. After all it isn't mine. I am made from the out.
So here--take it...take all of it...for I am of it but I own none of it...
I am me, and I am you...and I am of the trees and birds and mountains...
Separate, joined, apart, together...
Will you understand?
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