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Pain
The kind of itching pain
Underneath
It can’t be touched
Physically
Only by the long lasting presence of
Yourself
Returning home into You
Melts
Peacefully surrendering to all that is
No fuss
Just the silent loud care of Your breath
Tasty
The opening of the heart
Sitting
In the middle of my chest
Echoing
Into the past and the future
Mostly
Right into the heart of now
Tenderly,
Ian Altosaar
