On Holding and Being Held

I am infinite.

My light body held in its fiery hydrogen mass.

Here in the weightless womb of oxygenated dusk.

Breathing me forward and backward, present in time.

I am at ease.

Effortlessly arriving with each inhale

as I gather and glide the particled golden mass of me.

And with each exhale, returning inward to rest,

easy in this dewey dusk.

I hold space.

Pregnant with the heat of the divine.

Bearing the weight of the wet clouds.

Hovering in this humanity with you.

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