I saw the flesh. It was white, but not really.
What is white?
Tender fruiting bodies hung like fruiting bodies of bodies. Vulnerable, shapely, inviting.
Forbidden was the feeling.
Forbidden was the feeling.
Preventing me from further approach.
Hiratake, Oyster, Pleurotus, existing in a world before awakening.
Yet, a world more awake then ever cradled them.
Yet, a world more awake then ever cradled them.
An expression of time, of presence.
Humbly, they sacrifice their form, transferring their energy.
And the energy of the timeless terrestrial wisdom.
We must give it back.
We must give it back.
