Was that the vehicle is basically arbitrary
The coat of paint, seating fabric, engine
size, gas mileage
It is the destination that matters
Can you get there?
Can the carriers in this form perform?
In this season, snow-tires, air conditioning
variables and such
Sometimes softer, harder, needs vary, but
The sunset, the shortest day approaching
solstice-type considerations
This is universal, gut, mind, spirit,
emotional, physical confluence
Her, me, she, him, them, us, we
The stories, the circumstance, sure
commonalities, appreciations
Replenishment of staggered value systems
clicking up or down
Depending on the age or tint in the vine
The fruit tastes different when paired from
barrel to tongue
With the cultures milked to congeal that strain
of cheese
The beauty of the apple bitten
The space between in the tension of peering
into eyes
Visualizing these dramas and comedies
recycling theaters
Of who can and cannot play these roles in our
ideal worlds
Choice in theories laughed and cried about
December taught me to shed the idea of the
car as mandatory
The place I was going, am, always was, that
convergent nexus
Was the same, and so how does one love
knowing that?
The hub of it; the many roads
The Om Gang Ganapataye Namaha
No evils to remove or salvation pools to
drink
The just being and volition of that voyager
over this one
To know; I see you; I see you here in this
moment
Take my hand; let me hold you, hold me; we
will walk in this light together
The arbitrary nature of this spot of earth or
fancy waltz or drink
That it was not the vehicle, but the act of
being chosen, choosing
That illuminates the glisten in the place we
always are
Be that with me for this now; I want to tell
stories, merge witness
Explode like stars humming
exposed
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