WARM BELLY

Night jogging through darkness, my ears cold, my lips blossoming red, my eyes sore, dry irises, breeze so beautiful and undesirable, breeze climbing seas, sand, rocks, cliffs, wet breeze.

Cantankerously body freezes stiff resisting freezing, shivering, shivering into the stiff of night. If I convince myself that I am not here! this is not happening! it is not me! Ambushed by terror I prepare for evacuation into the astral plane; forbidding that, spontaneous combustion readily warms my belly.

Steam and mist are not the same but so difficult to tell which is which or which is friend or foe. A toll is paid either way. Pores are inspired by both; steam urges ripening, mist urges cessation, either an expression of avoidance against cause.

If your pores are able to expand at a rate of 164 millimeters per second spontaneous combustion is not obtainable. The astral plane can be reached, or not, with fully dilated pores.