Invasion of the External
I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
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Parturition: In which light itself become the subject, abstracted into a separate entity. Negative space become positive form as the old order disseminates into a new creature. It is a most spiritual of journeys to bend, mold, play with light in a lens. Contemplating its qualities, testing its malleability, measuring its nuances, I am all the while being drawn, moth-like, to the chink, the infinitesimal point of invasion, and finally, out into the Enjoyment of the External.
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