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                        even though

        I closed my eyes
        my head sunk forward
        I planned this poem
        I played my coup
                gloriously with
                great theatre
        I scratched my nose
        I relaxed my mudra
        I noticed all this but
        I couldn’t find
                my breath

        that I sat
        with crossed legs
        with straight back
        with thumbs poised
        with intention
        of doing nothing
        but breathe

        and created
        a tiny
        bright blue

        no one
        can take
        from me

        is the most organised
        and structured act
        I shall do today
        and tomorrow and
        the rest of my life





breathing & posture & sitting & space wormhole: satin poem
living & writing wormhole: scatter