As for now, worlds spin in chanced phrases. An ancient language swims in imagery exploding from points in the body. Every aspect, crown to toe, pulsates with speech, yet not a sound is heard. How does a body come so alive? How is it that kinesthetic dreams awaken cells to sing such silent songs? How does one bury the colloquial phrases to discover the authentic language? Light's prism explodes through the senses from which life ignites, animating conversations. Radiance funnels into dimensions- this is life, this is creation.
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