Tied by threads to this place of origin is the definition of a body. Body is a moving origin belonging to the event of birth.
Weaving into that centre of gravity that is the self forms a globulous knotted thing.
That thing is my body.
And the body sleeps. It is always asleep.
Thoughts are lullabies and the accompanying rocking is a Copernican reassurance that we’ll keep circulating the sun.
Melody is lovely.
Melody means Mother.
Mother, like melody, gives the impression of a total entity.
Even if within her is another.
She is an egg.
A melodious egg.
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