Always Healing.

Always healing is the body. This process is the source of aging; the result of the world’s tempering anvil. The hammer beats us back to shape in the eerie smithy, whose walls are reddened by the smoldering coals. And the settling smoke deafens our confused senses. Once healed, our re-woven forms step out into the slashing chaos daring history to repeat itself: though we internally disbelieve in that possibility until it occurs again.

When the body stops healing, the corpse appears. The corpse lurks at the pit of our worries. Cold and patient, it neither laughs nor frowns. The corpse is certainty embodied--and nothing besides. It holds no emotion but provokes a rainbow of feeling. And this particular rainbow will remain when the foreboding clouds clear.