Good Morning Self by H.R. McGonigal

Good morning Self, open mouth self; out come the molecules of morning, round, voluptuous. Out come the sounds of a new tongue, lips teeth tonsil parade vowel verb rainbow noun. Dove wing beats like horse hoof, a gentle canter. Blue jays screech, cackle and laugh at each other in rapid fire greetings. We all unfold aurally together. I unwrap my natural heart beat discovered and the doves coo-flutter like thin, thread pulse, something warm you might find in the forest and press against; a tree, a wrist. Tiny assorted birds wake with the dawn and their sound is like Christmas bells, their sound makes the smell of tea. They percolate. The volcano mouth of morning erupts continuously now as a gigantic plane flies invisibly above, loud, like tectonics, shifting layers of sky planet, evolution in motion. And the dainty hummingbird concurs, fluttering. The yellow brick road; teeth stained by coffee and cigarettes, leads to the wizard who lives inside.

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