We are all water

Tapping into a deep seam where a clear river runs underground, I open my palms and stare at them.
The liquid within my flesh is the same as the current beneath. We are all water. We are all the blood of life. My bones are the pressed dust of minerals, thousands of years old – gathered in and shaped by arms wiser than these two wayward limbs.
My upturned palms reveal more than skin. Lines of life, head and heart map out a journey beyond the physical.

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