I don’t pretend to know, you tell me. Is Art not Science? And is Science not an Art?
The Morning Scroll
Before
Before stories of
the world around
were written upon my body
what is the story of me
that’s true in my bones
before heaviness
and expectations set in?
what shell must I break?
what skins must I shed?
so that I can be
the most truly me
instance of me I intended to be?
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Merry Bee X
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