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18 September 2006 @ 09:22 pm
the way the letters fit together in the forgotten language  
The body is the original story teller. Muscle sings with the bells and the drums, eyes emphasize every strike and pause, hands hold breath at arm's length. How many times can your toes brush the ground in the span of a single heartbeat? I must remember how to listen to it, to let my form speak free of the mind's constraints, for it is at that moment when all joints become fluid and things just are ... the motion itself becomes my strength, upon which I stand, pivot and leap.

My body isn't just a carrion case in which I carry my mind to rot. Does difficulty matter when I am the wind? Possessing a physical form is not a limitation when I am the sky itself!
Current Mood: amusedfeeling the BURN
Current Music: "Dream of the Shore Boarding Another World," Chrono Cross
Emily: Bellaetoileeyes on September 19th, 2006 06:13 pm (UTC)
I love this post! (and the icon) You have such a talent for descriptive writing. I will always be a fan of your art! Bella!