clean, clear, empty space

In this spaciousness
arises
sensation.
Tickle in belly,
itch on back where sunburn fades,
Trembling
like the quiver
of a toddler’s lip before they cry,
but untethered, floating in my internal space.
I am
borrowing this body from god.
I am trying to be gentle.
I am the one claiming
“me, my, personal.”
When really, in the clean,
clear, empty space
it is not so certain
where the boundaries really are.

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