*
So she let the breath breathe her.
Her own role small. The breath initiated. From where? To where?
Where are you? Who are you?
Twigs that shifted, dry brush breathing. As if sinking after exercise. Wind like a billowing towel. Can you talk? If you can talk, you are still within range. So go further? She sank down into recovery, let go. The thoughts between the thoughts were almost within grasp.
In the forest Una reached forward her hand and then a hand grasped her hand. Who are you?
Fear a great teacher. One's eyes wide like a horse's. Looking back, there are dorm windows, golden, swollen, people inside. Many miles away. Existent, remote.
But out here, the between that surrounded things was like a leaven. The place was growing.
The breathing was not hers.
What did she bring back? Not information, nothing but wonder.
*
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