the father delivers you from the mother.
and clinging hurts, said bodhi tree.
irregardless your belief, i have my first task, said One.
we sure look the part in the middle of love, you thought.
don’t worry you’ll be fine, said son whose death came and went like butterfly’s—or was he she?
i don’t see myself anywhere, cried world mirror.
tongues tongues tongues, whispered two shedding snakes.
tears remain you awake, said grief swallower.
what about anger, papaga?
he smiled knowingly.
she blushed.
the fabric of the worlds spoke.
all was prophesy.
teeming.