no thought is individually authored,
yet myopically,
we all individually lay claim.
everything is woven.
some has surface facing,
while other parts live deeply within.
we all are eventually anonymous.
whatever was flash from glitter,
keynotes of logical minds,
outspoken beyond context,
hideous beyond what is reason,
vapid beyond recall,
traumas that surfaced unexplained,
are glories,
beyond collective embrace.
anonymous is the tide,
while recognition has liquified
beyond display.
whatever the outreach of hand,
it is embodied in the collective intent.
were we to know of this,
then all of life-matter would present,
as us and through us.
thought would be taken from breath
and then presented from breath,
back into,
out into the milieu,
as meaningful ambience outspoken . . .
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