Where to Begin

Two concrete rectangles, steel and wood
Call one bed, the other, living room
A door in and out, a middle glass partition
White walls breathe and bend
Black and white floors tiles flex to feet,
Large windows let in light
A turquoise chair is married to a red desk
A white telephone has divorced a black stand
A computer is running out to shop
There is nothing but what days bring
They bring little for weeks.
One day, the visions ease
Into a pleasant unawareness and rising
To a sage morning sitting with tea

Time unravels your head like a ball of twine:

A black tile lifts from the floor
Floats slowly round the room and another
A white one, begins to ascend, joining
Yet another and another, black and white tiles
Moving around to a secret order, a song
Fantastic, fascinating, hypnotic…
A white tile holds an eye socket and one eye
Rolls out your head to fill it
A black tile has a nose pulsing and you feel
Yours missing from your face
Your ears are wings flapping in another
Fingers detached from hands
Slither into black and white,
Your body like always but lighter

Limb by limb, organ by organ

Bone upon bone coming apart without pain
The entire network of flesh
Fingernails, brain, heart, liver
Circles the room, turning in slow motion
A mobile of body parts
United yet distinctly alone and then
A window to the world opens…
Everything sucked out into air into sky vanishes.
There is no one now where the lights burn
And air-conditioning runs day and night, no one
To say where to look; nor even where to begina0575f66fbdb4f8500b70c138ce9aa37--toothpaste-colors-colorful-chairs



Have a Tao Day.

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