science says, soulfood

Saturday drew to a long tenuous close
it sang out a clear piercing
know thy self,
look inside.

Sunday awoke, journeyed, arrived
welcomed, Om, Namaste
meditation, clarity
a pretty little bow.

I pleaded, “Take me away”.
She answered, “No, stay”.
Sunday howled, let go.

Monday pattered at the glass
I countered— groan.
My hips held tight,
my soul curled into Q.

The daylight peeked out and said
Do you hear?
Say hello, it’s intuition.

The night fell
my open, closed, origami
out of whack, tattered,
let it be, tied in a bow soul
screamed back, “But it hurts”.

And Monday night whispered


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