I am devoured
by the shower that rains me.
I am swept up
in the flood coming forth from within.
There is no telling
to what words cannot pronounce.
Everything that happens is only,
in experiential audience,
a slight of sin . . .
Otherwise, in first person outpour,
my spirit,
seeking a new breath
in consciousness,
is the expression coming forth,
celebrating the essence
of my being . . .
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