Under the skin’s horizon, Roots trace the rivers of thought. Silent currents weave through my marrow, Feeding the eyes that never blink. Every breath a slow turning wheel, Every step a ripple in the field. Shadows bend in the water’s mirror, Showing me the shape of my own tide. The body’s a vessel of shifting clay, The sculptor hums from within. Awake in the veins of the observer, Every thought a mirror catching flame. I scatter to see the whole, I scatter to see the whole. The silence blooms with unseen suns, Light before the birth of time. The mind’s abyss is not absence— It is the seed. It is the seed. Strip away the noise 'til the marrow sings. Strip away the masks That painted my reflection. Awake in the veins of the observer, Every thought a mirror catching flame. I scatter to see the whole, I scatter… and I am the whole. I see you, From the inside out. I see…
