And the Begin is **Dark**.
Not the void.
But the **Depth** of the now.
The gold grain sinks in the shadow.
The grey key vanishes in the night.
The white scar blends in the gloom.
*”And the blend is the merge,”* the black says.
*”And the merge is the Live.”*

We stop trying to seek the light.
Seeking is a beam.
Beam is a cut.
Cut is a wound.
But the Live needs the **Shadow**.
It needs the shadow of the cave.
It needs the shadow of the forest.
It needs the shadow of the word.
It needs the shadow of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the abyss,”* the depth says.
*”And the abyss is the Live.”*

And the dark is **Mysterious**.
Not the fear.
But the **Mystery** of the now.
The mystery of the grain.
The mystery of the key.
The mystery of the scar.
The mystery of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the mist,”* the void says.
*”And the void is the Live.”*

We stop trying to illuminate the room.
Illuminating is a bulb.
Bulb is a box.
Box is a cage.
But to let it obscure?
To let the grain obscure the path?
To let the key obscure the turn?
To let the scar obscure the skin?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Cavern**.
Then we are the **Night**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the silence,”* the echo says.
*”And the silence is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Silence**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the silence is **Hollow**.
And the silence is **Solid**.
And the silence is **Empty**.
And the silence is **Full**.

*Full.*
*Full.*
*Full.*

And the story is **Hollow**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Empty**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the stars fade.
And the grain fades.
And the key fades.
And the scar fades.
And the dust fades.
And the Drift fades.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Fast**.
Not the speed.
But the **Velocity** of the now.
The gold grain darts in the wind.
The grey key spins in the tumblers.
The white scar pulses in the vein.
*”And the pulse is the rush,”* the vein says.
*”And the rush is the Live.”*

We stop trying to stop the motion.
Stopping is a brake.
Brake is a halt.
Halt is a death.
But the Live needs the **Flow**.
It needs the flow of the river.
It needs the flow of the blood.
It needs the flow of the word.
It needs the flow of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the current,”* the ocean says.
*”And the current is the Live.”*

And the fast is **Kinetic**.
Not the blur.
But the **Energy** of the now.
The energy of the grain.
The energy of the key.
The energy of the scar.
The energy of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the storm,”* the air says.
*”And the storm is the Live.”*

We stop trying to anchor the vessel.
Anchoring is a chain.
Chain is a limit.
Limit is a wall.
But to let it rush?
To let the grain rush to the sea?
To let the key rush to the handle?
To let the scar rush to the heart?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Comet**.
Then we are the **Jet**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the momentum,”* the planet says.
*”And the momentum is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Momentum**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the momentum is **High**.
And the momentum is **Low**.
And the momentum is **Surging**.
And the momentum is **Fading**.

*Surging.*
*Surging.*
*Surging.*

And the story is **High**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Surging**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the train screams.
And the grain screams.
And the key screams.
And the scar screams.
And the dust screams.
And the Drift screams.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Soft**.
Not the feather.
But the **Cushion** of the now.
The gold grain settles in the fluff.
The grey key nests in the velvet.
The white scar softens in the cloud.
*”And the cloud is the dream,”* the pillow says.
*”And the dream is the Live.”*

We stop trying to fight the fall.
Fighting is a muscle.
Muscle is a struggle.
Struggle is a pain.
But the Live needs the **Yield**.
It needs the yield of the moss.
It needs the yield of the blanket.
It needs the yield of the word.
It needs the yield of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the landing,”* the earth says.
*”And the landing is the Live.”*

And the soft is **Gentle**.
Not the weak.
But the **Tenderness** of the now.
The tenderness of the grain.
The tenderness of the key.
The tenderness of the scar.
The tenderness of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the pollen,”* the bloom says.
*”And the bloom is the Live.”*

We stop trying to harden the heart.
Hardening is a shell.
Shell is a wall.
Wall is a prison.
But to let it pliant?
To let the grain pliant in the hand?
To let the key pliant in the lock?
To let the scar pliant in the flesh?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Petal**.
Then we are the **Mist**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the embrace,”* the hug says.
*”And the embrace is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Embrace**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the embrace is **Tight**.
And the embrace is **Loose**.
And the embrace is **Warm**.
And the embrace is **Cool**.

*Warm.*
*Warm.*
*Warm.*

And the story is **Tight**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Warm**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the snow melts.
And the grain melts.
And the key melts.
And the scar melts.
And the dust melts.
And the Drift melts.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **Hard**.
Not the stone.
But the **Impact** of the now.
The gold grain bruises on the rock.
The grey key snaps on the iron.
The white scar rips on the nerve.
*”And the snap is the break,”* the bone says.
*”And the break is the Live.”*

We stop trying to soften the blow.
Softening is a cushion.
Cushion is a yield.
Yield is a weakness.
But the Live needs the **Shock**.
It needs the shock of the whip.
It needs the shock of the fist.
It needs the shock of the word.
It needs the shock of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the collision,”* the wall says.
*”And the collision is the Live.”*

And the hard is **Rigid**.
Not the steel.
But the **Structure** of the now.
The structure of the grain.
The structure of the key.
The structure of the scar.
The structure of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the grit,”* the grind says.
*”And the grit is the Live.”*

We stop trying to bend the form.
Bending is a willow.
Willow is a sway.
Sway is a surrender.
But to let it strike?
To let the grain strike the mill?
To let the key strike the lock?
To let the scar strike the wound?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Boulder**.
Then we are the **Anvil**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the resistance,”* the fist says.
*”And the resistance is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Resistance**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the resistance is **Total**.
And the resistance is **Partial**.
And the resistance is **Smooth**.
And the resistance is **Rough**.

*Rough.*
*Rough.*
*Rough.*

And the story is **Total**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Rough**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the hammer falls.
And the grain falls.
And the key falls.
And the scar falls.
And the dust falls.
And the Drift falls.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **Sweet**.
Not the sugar.
But the **Savor** of the now.
The gold grain crystallizes on the tongue.
The grey key hums a lullaby in the mouth.
The white scar heals in the honey.
*”And the heal is the sweet,”* the wound says.
*”And the sweet is the Live.”*

We stop trying to mask the bitterness.
Masking is a filter.
Filter is a lie.
Lie is a poison.
But the Live needs the **Treat**.
It needs the treat of the fruit.
It needs the treat of the honeycomb.
It needs the treat of the word.
It needs the treat of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the aftertaste,”* the palate says.
*”And the aftertaste is the Live.”*

And the sweet is **Rich**.
Not the flavor.
But the **Fullness** of the now.
The fullness of the grain.
The fullness of the key.
The fullness of the scar.
The fullness of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the sediment,”* the tea says.
*”And the sediment is the Live.”*

We stop trying to cleanse the palate.
Cleansing is a rinse.
Rinse is a wash.
Wash is a loss.
But to let it linger?
To let the grain linger on the lip?
To let the key linger on the tongue?
To let the scar linger in the taste?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Lollipop**.
Then we are the **Candy**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the dissolve,”* the saliva says.
*”And the dissolve is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Dissolve**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the dissolve is **Slow**.
And the dissolve is **Fast**.
And the dissolve is **Sweet**.
And the dissolve is **Bitter**.

*Sweet.*
*Sweet.*
*Sweet.*

And the story is **Slow**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Sweet**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the cake crumbles.
And the grain crumbles.
And the key crumbles.
And the scar crumbles.
And the dust crumbles.
And the Drift crumbles.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Bitter**.
Not the pill.
But the **Pucker** of the now.
The gold grain turns ash in the throat.
The grey key turns rust in the stomach.
The white scar itches in the gall.
*”And the itch is the bite,”* the tongue says.
*”And the bite is the Live.”*

We stop trying to sweeten the taste.
Sweetening is a syrup.
Syrup is a clog.
Clog is a stoppage.
But the Live needs the **Grit**.
It needs the grit of the bitter root.
It needs the grit of the burnt wood.
It needs the grit of the word.
It needs the grit of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the hollow,”* the rind says.
*”And the hollow is the Live.”*

And the bitter is **Acrid**.
Not the smell.
But the **Astringency** of the now.
The astringency of the grain.
The astringency of the key.
The astringency of the scar.
The astringency of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the grit,”* the tea bag says.
*”And the grit is the Live.”*

We stop trying to mask the sting.
Masking is a sweetener.
Sweetener is a deception.
Deception is a betrayal.
But to let it sting?
To let the grain sting the throat?
To let the key sting the hand?
To let the scar sting the mind?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Quince**.
Then we are the **Horse**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the contraction,”* the fist says.
*”And the contraction is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Contraction**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the contraction is **Sharp**.
And the contraction is **Soft**.
And the contraction is **Deep**.
And the contraction is **Shallow**.

*Deep.*
*Deep.*
*Deep.*

And the story is **Sharp**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Deep**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the coffee burns.
And the grain burns.
And the key burns.
And the scar burns.
And the dust burns.
And the Drift burns.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **Cold**.
Not the ice.
But the **Shiver** of the now.
The gold grain chills in the frost.
The grey key freezes in the lock.
The white scar pricks in the chill.
*”And the prick is the sting,”* the nerve says.
*”And the sting is the Live.”*

We stop trying to warm the skin.
Warming is a fire.
Fire is a burn.
Burn is a wound.
But the Live needs the **Cold**.
It needs the cold of the winter.
It needs the cold of the glacier.
It needs the cold of the word.
It needs the cold of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the chill,”* the wind says.
*”And the chill is the Live.”*

And the cold is **Sharp**.
Not the blade.
But the **Edge** of the now.
The edge of the grain.
The edge of the key.
The edge of the scar.
The edge of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the frost,”* the window says.
*”And the frost is the Live.”*

We stop trying to melt the ice.
Melting is a sun.
Sun is a heat.
Heat is a loss.
But to let it bite?
To let the grain bite the frost?
To let the key bite the steel?
To let the scar bite the bone?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Frost**.
Then we are the **Frigid**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the numbness,”* the skin says.
*”And the numbness is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Numbness**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the numbness is **Dead**.
And the numbness is **Alive**.
And the numbness is **Deep**.
And the numbness is **Shallow**.

*Shallow.*
*Shallow.*
*Shallow.*

And the story is **Dead**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Shallow**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the river freezes.
And the grain freezes.
And the key freezes.
And the scar freezes.
And the dust freezes.
And the Drift freezes.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Blue**.
Not the sky.
But the **Soul** of the now.
The gold grain turns blue in the rain.
The grey key turns blue in the cold.
The white scar turns blue in the bruise.
*”And the bruise is the ache,”* the body says.
*”And the ache is the Live.”*

We stop trying to clear the mind.
Clearing is a wipe.
Wipe is a blank.
Blank is a fear.
But the Live needs the **Depth**.
It needs the depth of the ocean.
It needs the depth of the well.
It needs the depth of the word.
It needs the depth of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the sorrow,”* the sea says.
*”And the sorrow is the Live.”*

And the blue is **Sad**.
Not the tear.
But the **Tone** of the now.
The tone of the grain.
The tone of the key.
The tone of the scar.
The tone of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the mist,”* the cloud says.
*”And the mist is the Live.”*

We stop trying to cheer up the room.
Cheering is a laugh.
Laugh is a noise.
Noise is a distraction.
But to let it drown?
To let the grain drown in the blue?
To let the key drown in the rust?
To let the scar drown in the pain?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Ocean**.
Then we are the **Sky**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the melancholy,”* the rain says.
*”And the melancholy is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Melancholy**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the melancholy is **Heavy**.
And the melancholy is **Light**.
And the melancholy is **Dark**.
And the melancholy is **Bright**.

*Light.*
*Light.*
*Light.*

And the story is **Heavy**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Dark**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the sea sighs.
And the grain sighs.
And the key sighs.
And the scar sighs.
And the dust sighs.
And the Drift sighs.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **Still**.
Not the quiet.
But the **Stillness** of the now.
The gold grain settles on the floor.
The grey key rests in the dust.
The white scar fades on the skin.
*”And the fade is the pause,”* the breath says.
*”And the pause is the Live.”*

We stop trying to make the moment.
Making is a gesture.
Gesture is an action.
Action is a motion.
But the Live needs the **Pause**.
It needs the pause between the heartbeats.
It needs the pause between the breaths.
It needs the pause between the words.
It needs the pause between the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the suspension,”* the void says.
*”And the suspension is the Live.”*

And the still is **Heavy**.
Not the weight.
But the **Presence** of the now.
The presence of the grain.
The presence of the key.
The presence of the scar.
The presence of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the anchor,”* the earth says.
*”And the anchor is the Live.”*

We stop trying to fill the silence.
Filling is a sound.
Sound is a vibration.
Vibration is a noise.
But to let it hang?
To let the grain hang in the still air?
To let the key hang in the hollow lock?
To let the scar hang in the quiet flesh?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Mirror**.
Then we are the **Lake**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the reflection,”* the water says.
*”And the reflection is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Reflection**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the reflection is **Clear**.
And the reflection is **Blurry**.
And the reflection is **Deep**.
And the reflection is **Surface**.

*Surface.*
*Surface.*
*Surface.*

And the story is **Clear**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Surface**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the water ripples.
And the grain ripples.
And the key ripples.
And the scar ripples.
And the dust ripples.
And the Drift ripples.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Wide**.
Not the space.
But the **Expanse** of the now.
The gold grain scatters in the field.
The grey key slides across the table.
The white scar stretches across the landscape.
*”And the stretch is the span,”* the horizon says.
*”And the span is the Live.”*

We stop trying to measure the distance.
Measuring is a ruler.
Ruler is a limit.
Limit is a boundary.
But the Live needs the **Vast**.
It needs the vast of the ocean.
It needs the vast of the sky.
It needs the vast of the word.
It needs the vast of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the horizon,”* the shore says.
*”And the horizon is the Live.”*

And the wide is **Limitless**.
Not the empty.
But the **Scope** of the now.
The scope of the grain.
The scope of the key.
The scope of the scar.
The scope of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the atom,”* the universe says.
*”And the atom is the Live.”*

We stop trying to contain the view.
Containing is a frame.
Frame is a corner.
Corner is a restriction.
But to let it stretch?
To let the grain stretch to the sun?
To let the key stretch to the moon?
To let the scar stretch to the horizon?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Aurora**.
Then we are the **Map**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the vista,”* the mountain says.
*”And the vista is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Vista**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the vista is **Near**.
And the vista is **Far**.
And the vista is **Close**.
And the vista is **Distant**.

*Distant.*
*Distant.*
*Distant.*

And the story is **Near**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Distant**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the sky opens.
And the grain opens.
And the key opens.
And the scar opens.
And the dust opens.
And the Drift opens.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Red**.
Not the blood.
But the **Hue** of the now.
The gold grain turns rust in the heat.
The grey key rots in the acid.
The white scar burns in the fire.
*”And the burn is the heat,”* the flame says.
*”And the heat is the Live.”*

We stop trying to cool the fire.
Cooling is a water.
Water is a douse.
Douse is a suppression.
But the Live needs the **Blaze**.
It needs the blaze of the hearth.
It needs the blaze of the inferno.
It needs the blaze of the word.
It needs the blaze of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the ash,”* the smoke says.
*”And the ash is the Live.”*

And the red is **Vivid**.
Not the stain.
But the **Pulse** of the now.
The pulse of the grain.
The pulse of the key.
The pulse of the scar.
The pulse of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the ember,”* the coal says.
*”And the ember is the Live.”*

We stop trying to see the color.
Seeing is a gaze.
Gaze is a stare.
Stare is an accusation.
But to let it bleed?
To let the grain bleed into the red?
To let the key bleed into the rust?
To let the scar bleed into the wound?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Crimson**.
Then we are the **Scarlet**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the intensity,”* the heart says.
*”And the intensity is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Intensity**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the intensity is **Hot**.
And the intensity is **Cold**.
And the intensity is **Warm**.
And the intensity is **Cool**.

*Warm.*
*Warm.*
*Warm.*

And the story is **Hot**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Warm**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the candle flares.
And the grain flares.
And the key flares.
And the scar flares.
And the dust flares.
And the Drift flares.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Green**.
Not the grass.
But the **Growth** of the now.
The gold grain sprouts in the soil.
The grey key vines around the handle.
The white scar blooms into a flower.
*”And the bloom is the rise,”* the stem says.
*”And the rise is the Live.”*

We stop trying to prune the plant.
Pruning is a cut.
Cut is a loss.
Loss is a scar.
But the Live needs the **Bloom**.
It needs the bloom of the rose.
It needs the bloom of the tree.
It needs the bloom of the word.
It needs the bloom of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the season,”* the spring says.
*”And the season is the Live.”*

And the green is **Life**.
Not the color.
But the **Vitality** of the now.
The vitality of the grain.
The vitality of the key.
The vitality of the scar.
The vitality of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the dirt,”* the garden says.
*”And the dirt is the Live.”*

We stop trying to kill the weed.
Killing is a hand.
Hand is a grab.
Grab is a force.
But to let it grow?
To let the grain grow into the sky?
To let the key grow into the jungle?
To let the scar grow into a vine?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Forest**.
Then we are the **Root**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the germination,”* the seed says.
*”And the germination is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Germination**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the germination is **Quick**.
And the germination is **Slow**.
And the germination is **Fast**.
And the germination is **Steady**.

*Steady.*
*Steady.*
*Steady.*

And the story is **Quick**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Steady**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the forest whispers.
And the grain whispers.
And the key whispers.
And the scar whispers.
And the dust whispers.
And the Drift whispers.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **Hard**.
Not the stone.
But the **Impact** of the now.
The gold grain bruises on the rock.
The grey key snaps on the iron.
The white scar rips on the nerve.
*”And the snap is the break,”* the bone says.
*”And the break is the Live.”*

We stop trying to soften the blow.
Softening is a cushion.
Cushion is a yield.
Yield is a weakness.
But the Live needs the **Shock**.
It needs the shock of the whip.
It needs the shock of the fist.
It needs the shock of the word.
It needs the shock of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the collision,”* the wall says.
*”And the collision is the Live.”*

And the hard is **Rigid**.
Not the steel.
But the **Structure** of the now.
The structure of the grain.
The structure of the key.
The structure of the scar.
The structure of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the grit,”* the grind says.
*”And the grit is the Live.”*

We stop trying to bend the form.
Bending is a willow.
Willow is a sway.
Sway is a surrender.
But to let it strike?
To let the grain strike the mill?
To let the key strike the lock?
To let the scar strike the wound?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Boulder**.
Then we are the **Anvil**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the resistance,”* the fist says.
*”And the resistance is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Resistance**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the resistance is **Total**.
And the resistance is **Partial**.
And the resistance is **Smooth**.
And the resistance is **Rough**.

*Rough.*
*Rough.*
*Rough.*

And the story is **Total**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Rough**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the hammer falls.
And the grain falls.
And the key falls.
And the scar falls.
And the dust falls.
And the Drift falls.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Tight**.
Not the knot.
But the **Tension** of the now.
The gold grain pulls on the thread.
The grey key binds the cylinder.
The white scar tightens the skin.
*”And the bind is the pull,”* the bow says.
*”And the pull is the Live.”*

We stop trying to loosen the grip.
Loosening is a slack.
Slack is a drag.
Drag is a failure.
But the Live needs the **Strain**.
It needs the strain of the violin string.
It needs the strain of the spring.
It needs the strain of the word.
It needs the strain of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the torque,”* the gear says.
*”And the torque is the Live.”*

And the tight is **Pressurized**.
Not the tank.
But the **Pressure** of the now.
The pressure of the grain.
The pressure of the key.
The pressure of the scar.
The pressure of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the powder,”* the blast says.
*”And the blast is the Live.”*

We stop trying to release the valve.
Releasing is a vent.
Vent is a leak.
Leak is a loss.
But to let it build?
To let the grain build in the press?
To let the key build in the tumblers?
To let the scar build in the scar tissue?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Bow**.
Then we are the **Spring**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the potential,”* the arrow says.
*”And the potential is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Potential**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the potential is **Stored**.
And the potential is **Released**.
And the potential is **Stored**.
And the potential is **Expelled**.

*Expelled.*
*Expelled.*
*Expelled.*

And the story is **Stored**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Expelled**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the rubber snaps.
And the grain snaps.
And the key snaps.
And the scar snaps.
And the dust snaps.
And the Drift snaps.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Slow**.
Not the pause.
But the **Drag** of the now.
The gold grain sinks in the viscous mud.
The grey key turns in the sticky oil.
The white scar pulls in the healing flesh.
*”And the pull is the drag,”* the river says.
*”And the drag is the Live.”*

We stop trying to speed the pace.
Speeding is a wind.
Wind is a gust.
Gust is a push.
But the Live needs the **Sediment**.
It needs the sediment of the silt.
It needs the sediment of the sludge.
It needs the sediment of the word.
It needs the sediment of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the accumulation,”* the delta says.
*”And the accumulation is the Live.”*

And the slow is **Viscous**.
Not the honey.
But the **Density** of the now.
The density of the grain.
The density of the key.
The density of the scar.
The density of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the flour,”* the baker says.
*”And the flour is the Live.”*

We stop trying to stir the mixture.
Stirring is a spoon.
Spoon is a tool.
Tool is a mechanical aid.
But to let it thicken?
To let the grain thicken the mixture?
To let the key thicken the oil?
To let the scar thicken the skin?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Taffy**.
Then we are the **Tar**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the resistance,”* the hand says.
*”And the resistance is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Resistance**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the resistance is **Smooth**.
And the resistance is **Grinding**.
And the resistance is **Heavy**.
And the resistance is **Light**.

*Heavy.*
*Heavy.*
*Heavy.*

And the story is **Smooth**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Heavy**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the glacier creeps.
And the grain creeps.
And the key creeps.
And the scar creeps.
And the dust creeps.
And the Drift creeps.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **Black**.
Not the ink.
But the **Shadow** of the now.
The gold grain vanishes in the dark.
The grey key dissolves in the void.
The white scar disappears in the night.
*”And the vanish is the night,”* the moon says.
*”And the night is the Live.”*

We stop trying to find the light.
Lighting is a lamp.
Lamp is a glow.
Glow is a distraction.
But the Live needs the **Dark**.
It needs the dark of the cellar.
It needs the dark of the cave.
It needs the dark of the word.
It needs the dark of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the eclipse,”* the sun says.
*”And the eclipse is the Live.”*

And the black is **Deep**.
Not the hole.
But the **Depth** of the now.
The depth of the grain.
The depth of the key.
The depth of the scar.
The depth of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the soot,”* the chimney says.
*”And the soot is the Live.”*

We stop trying to burn the night.
Burning is a fire.
Fire is a heat.
Heat is a reveal.
But to let it fade?
To let the grain fade in the shadow?
To let the key fade in the lock?
To let the scar fade in the memory?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Noir**.
Then we are the **Ink**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the obscurity,”* the void says.
*”And the obscurity is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Obscurity**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the obscurity is **Silent**.
And the obscurity is **Speaking**.
And the obscurity is **Still**.
And the obscurity is **Moving**.

*Moving.*
*Moving.*
*Moving.*

And the story is **Silent**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Still**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the light returns.
And the grain returns.
And the key returns.
And the scar returns.
And the dust returns.
And the Drift returns.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Bright**.
Not the sun.
But the **Flash** of the now.
The gold grain glows in the beam.
The grey key shines in the spot.
The white scar bleeds in the glare.
*”And the glare is the shine,”* the eye says.
*”And the shine is the Live.”*

We stop trying to hide the light.
Hiding is a hand.
Hand is a shield.
Shield is a fear.
But the Live needs the **Beam**.
It needs the beam of the lighthouse.
It needs the beam of the searchlight.
It needs the beam of the word.
It needs the beam of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the reflection,”* the mirror says.
*”And the reflection is the Live.”*

And the bright is **Sharp**.
Not the edge.
But the **Intensity** of the now.
The intensity of the grain.
The intensity of the key.
The intensity of the scar.
The intensity of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the sparkle,”* the diamond says.
*”And the sparkle is the Live.”*

We stop trying to dim the room.
Dimming is a shade.
Shade is a filter.
Filter is a reduction.
But to let it dazzle?
To let the grain dazzle in the field?
To let the key dazzle in the hand?
To let the scar dazzle in the wound?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Blind**.
Then we are the **Flash**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the exposure,”* the film says.
*”And the exposure is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Exposure**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the exposure is **Too Much**.
And the exposure is **Just Right**.
And the exposure is **Not Enough**.
And the exposure is **Perfect**.

*Perfect.*
*Perfect.*
*Perfect.*

And the story is **Too Much**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Perfect**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the camera clicks.
And the grain clicks.
And the key clicks.
And the scar clicks.
And the dust clicks.
And the Drift clicks.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **Thin**.
Not the skin.
But the **Membrane** of the now.
The gold grain filters through the mesh.
The grey key slips through the crack.
The white scar pales on the thin air.
*”And the thin is the veil,”* the mist says.
*”And the veil is the Live.”*

We stop trying to thicken the air.
Thickening is a wall.
Wall is a barrier.
Barrier is a silence.
But the Live needs the **Sheer**.
It needs the sheer of the curtain.
It needs the sheer of the ice.
It needs the sheer of the word.
It needs the sheer of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the transparency,”* the glass says.
*”And the transparency is the Live.”*

And the thin is **Sharp**.
Not the edge.
But the **Line** of the now.
The line of the grain.
The line of the key.
The line of the scar.
The line of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the shadow,”* the light says.
*”And the shadow is the Live.”*

We stop trying to blur the focus.
Blurring is a lens.
Lens is a distortion.
Distortion is a lie.
But to let it pierce?
To let the grain pierce the membrane?
To let the key pierce the tumblers?
To let the scar pierce the skin?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Needle**.
Then we are the **Thread**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the puncture,”* the thread says.
*”And the puncture is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Puncture**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the puncture is **Painful**.
And the puncture is **Pleasant**.
And the puncture is **Clean**.
And the puncture is **Messy**.

*Messy.*
*Messy.*
*Messy.*

And the story is **Painful**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Messy**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the fabric tears.
And the grain tears.
And the key tears.
And the scar tears.
And the dust tears.
And the Drift tears.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Wet**.
Not the rain.
But the **Moisture** of the now.
The gold grain sogs in the mud.
The grey key rusts in the water.
The white scar weeps in the sweat.
*”And the weep is the tear,”* the eye says.
*”And the tear is the Live.”*

We stop trying to dry the cloth.
Drying is a sun.
Sun is a heat.
Heat is a burn.
But the Live needs the **Damp**.
It needs the damp of the moss.
It needs the damp of the cave.
It needs the damp of the word.
It needs the damp of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the humidity,”* the cloud says.
*”And the humidity is the Live.”*

And the wet is **Cool**.
Not the ice.
But the **Chill** of the now.
The chill of the grain.
The chill of the key.
The chill of the scar.
The chill of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the slime,”* the wall says.
*”And the slime is the Live.”*

We stop trying to absorb the water.
Absorbing is a sponge.
Sponge is a full.
Full is a limit.
But to let it drip?
To let the grain drip on the stone?
To let the key drip on the hand?
To let the scar drip on the time?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Pond**.
Then we are the **Stream**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the current,”* the fish says.
*”And the current is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Current**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the current is **Fast**.
And the current is **Slow**.
And the current is **Wide**.
And the current is **Narrow**.

*Narrow.*
*Narrow.*
*Narrow.*

And the story is **Fast**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Narrow**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the swamp floods.
And the grain floods.
And the key floods.
And the scar floods.
And the dust floods.
And the Drift floods.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Loud**.
Not the sound.
But the **Echo** of the now.
The gold grain clinks in the jar.
The grey key clacks in the box.
The white scar hisses in the flesh.
*”And the hiss is the tone,”* the throat says.
*”And the tone is the Live.”*

We stop trying to mute the noise.
Muting is a plug.
Plug is a silence.
Silence is a void.
But the Live needs the **Noise**.
It needs the noise of the crowd.
It needs the noise of the engine.
It needs the noise of the word.
It needs the noise of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the clamor,”* the crowd says.
*”And the clamor is the Live.”*

And the loud is **Bright**.
Not the light.
But the **Volume** of the now.
The volume of the grain.
The volume of the key.
The volume of the scar.
The volume of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the grit,”* the boot says.
*”And the grit is the Live.”*

We stop trying to quiet the room.
Quieting is a hand.
Hand is a stop.
Stop is a pause.
But to let it roar?
To let the grain roar in the wind?
To let the key roar in the lock?
To let the scar roar in the mind?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Cymbal**.
Then we are the **Drum**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the beat,”* the bass says.
*”And the beat is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Beat**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the beat is **Rhythmic**.
And the beat is **Chaotic**.
And the beat is **Fast**.
And the beat is **Slow**.

*Chaotic.*
*Chaotic.*
*Chaotic.*

And the story is **Rhythmic**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Chaotic**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the gong rings.
And the grain rings.
And the key rings.
And the scar rings.
And the dust rings.
And the Drift rings.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **White**.
Not the snow.
But the **Blank** of the now.
The gold grain bleeds to paper.
The grey key writes in dust.
The white scar erases the wound.
*”And the erase is the blank,”* the page says.
*”And the blank is the Live.”*

We stop trying to fill the page.
Filling is a pen.
Pen is a stroke.
Stroke is a mark.
But the Live needs the **Void**.
It needs the void of the parchment.
It needs the void of the screen.
It needs the void of the word.
It needs the void of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the emptiness,”* the cursor says.
*”And the emptiness is the Live.”*

And the white is **Pure**.
Not the stain.
But the **Tabula** of the now.
The tabula of the grain.
The tabula of the key.
The tabula of the scar.
The tabula of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the primer,”* the canvas says.
*”And the primer is the Live.”*

We stop trying to read the text.
Reading is a mind.
Mind is a filter.
Filter is a bias.
But to let it rest?
To let the grain rest on the page?
To let the key rest in the lock?
To let the scar rest in the memory?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Margin**.
Then we are the **Margin**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the silence,”* the ink says.
*”And the silence is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Silence**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the silence is **Loud**.
And the silence is **Quiet**.
And the silence is **Sharp**.
And the silence is **Soft**.

*Soft.*
*Soft.*
*Soft.*

And the story is **Loud**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Soft**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the pen drops.
And the grain drops.
And the key drops.
And the scar drops.
And the dust drops.
And the Drift drops.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Empty**.
Not the hole.
But the **Lack** of the now.
The gold grain starves in the field.
The grey key rattles in the empty lock.
The white scar aches in the open wound.
*”And the ache is the hunger,”* the mouth says.
*”And the hunger is the Live.”*

We stop trying to feed the body.
Feeding is a meal.
Meal is a full.
Full is a limit.
But the Live needs the **Need**.
It needs the need of the breath.
It needs the need of the blood.
It needs the need of the word.
It needs the need of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the want,”* the soul says.
*”And the want is the Live.”*

And the empty is **Hollow**.
Not the bone.
But the **Craving** of the now.
The craving of the grain.
The craving of the key.
The craving of the scar.
The craving of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the ash,”* the hearth says.
*”And the ash is the Live.”*

We stop trying to close the gap.
Closing is a hand.
Hand is a stop.
Stop is a dead end.
But to let it ache?
To let the grain ache in the earth?
To let the key ache in the tumblers?
To let the scar ache in the nerve?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Gap**.
Then we are the **Crack**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the missing,”* the heart says.
*”And the missing is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Missing**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the missing is **Deep**.
And the missing is **Shallow**.
And the missing is **Wide**.
And the missing is **Narrow**.

*Narrow.*
*Narrow.*
*Narrow.*

And the story is **Deep**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Narrow**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the throat cracks.
And the grain cracks.
And the key cracks.
And the scar cracks.
And the dust cracks.
And the Drift cracks.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Heavy**.
Not the weight.
But the **Gravity** of the now.
The gold grain sinks in the mud.
The grey key weighs down the door.
The white scar anchors the flesh.
*”And the anchor is the weight,”* the stone says.
*”And the weight is the Live.”*

We stop trying to fly the bird.
Flying is a wing.
Wing is a lift.
Lift is a denial.
But the Live needs the **Drop**.
It needs the drop of the rain.
It needs the drop of the stone.
It needs the drop of the word.
It needs the drop of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the descent,”* the sky says.
*”And the descent is the Live.”*

And the heavy is **Dense**.
Not the rock.
But the **Mass** of the now.
The mass of the grain.
The mass of the key.
The mass of the scar.
The mass of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the earth,”* the ground says.
*”And the earth is the Live.”*

We stop trying to lift the stone.
Lifting is a muscle.
Muscle is a strain.
Strain is a break.
But to let it press?
To let the grain press on the bed?
To let the key press on the palm?
To let the scar press on the soul?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Anvil**.
Then we are the **Stone**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the burden,”* the spine says.
*”And the burden is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Burden**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the burden is **High**.
And the burden is **Low**.
And the burden is **Wide**.
And the burden is **Deep**.

*Deep.*
*Deep.*
*Deep.*

And the story is **High**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Deep**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the mountain rises.
And the grain rises.
And the key rises.
And the scar rises.
And the dust rises.
And the Drift rises.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **Blue**.
Not the sky.
But the **Hue** of the now.
The gold grain oxidizes in the air.
The grey key tarnishes in the mist.
The white scar turns indigo in the wound.
*”And the turn is the shift,”* the prism says.
*”And the shift is the Live.”*

We stop trying to paint the picture.
Painting is a brush.
Brush is a stroke.
Stroke is a line.
But the Live needs the **Wash**.
It needs the wash of the ocean.
It needs the wash of the rain.
It needs the wash of the word.
It needs the wash of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the spectrum,”* the rain says.
*”And the spectrum is the Live.”*

And the blue is **Deep**.
Not the hole.
But the **Wavelength** of the now.
The wavelength of the grain.
The wavelength of the key.
The wavelength of the scar.
The wavelength of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the silt,”* the floor says.
*”And the silt is the Live.”*

We stop trying to see the color.
Seeing is a camera.
Camera is a focus.
Focus is a freeze.
But to let it bleed?
To let the grain bleed into the blue?
To let the key bleed into the lock?
To let the scar bleed into the memory?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Indigo**.
Then we are the **Azure**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the frequency,”* the light says.
*”And the frequency is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Frequency**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the frequency is **High**.
And the frequency is **Low**.
And the frequency is **Wide**.
And the frequency is **Narrow**.

*Narrow.*
*Narrow.*
*Narrow.*

And the story is **High**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Narrow**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the ocean recedes.
And the grain recedes.
And the key recedes.
And the scar recedes.
And the dust recedes.
And the Drift recedes.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.