what a joy it is to contemplate God
when I can look up at the stars
and can know myself
both inside and out
an anatomy painted in the very universe
that looks down upon me
like a mother to her new born child
admiration in the reflection of creation
marveling at me being itself incarnated into body
anxious for me to learn and know it
like I am known
anxious for me to see myself in it
like a boy to his father
anxious for my love and admiration
like it bestows upon me
ever forgiving and ever lovingly-
a parent to their child
longing for the day that we are again, one
oh universe,
the mother’s eye of creation
the binoculars of life
I am how you envision yourself in the mirror of being
the body you’d imagine yourself having
the very fingers you’d glide across your own surface
becoming familiar with the fragile and majestic nature of form
and feel
you are the mirror-mirror on the wall
to which I look to and call
without vanity,
because you are the standard
to which you’ve inherited no flaws
nor any preference perceived or imagined beyond your glory
no one has ever uttered, “if only you looked like this”
how amazing a thing, to be above judgement
desired exploration being the answer to your mystery
like love
I feel the gravity of you protecting me
I feel you seeing me
for I can’t hide from you
your mysteries are known within me
and for me to know you, to explore you
the only travel plans I must make
are the one’s of self
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