she beat me

She beat me

with the stick of her mind.

What she hit of me

embraces that contact of that stick

as one becoming the “me-stick”.

The stick retreats from me

knowing of us.

It travels back and forth

as the beating

rhythmically continues

as a verbal assault,

embracing knowing more of us

through each act of contact.

But now this beat-stick

is an emissary between us.

This beating,

all the way from her gripping mind,

holding on to the beat-stick

as it continues to embrace me

where by each beat further instills

the ongoing monologue between us.

It travels out on to the mind-hand

that grips the stick for her mind.

For the beating continues

and appears as a diatribe.

Onward it goes

with whacks of contact again and again.

There are sounds made

where her mind-stick hits me.

This contact releases

my compacted response

as the mind-hand gathers

in the repercussive juice of us

from the frequency and the flush

of the beating itself.

The fatiguing mind-hands whispers

to the body of the beater,

the ventilative joy that is forthcoming.

In the excitement of this continuance,

the movement ending with contact

takes up these subtle causes

with fervor and grace.

At some point,

the repetition expels all concealments,

discharges all isolation from its source.

The energy of these actions

freely pours forth.

Our fields are filled and dazzling.

The radiance coming off the welts

comes back as a levity

up into the “beat-stick’

only then does the mind-hand embrace

this fervor within the grip itself.

And the mind body acknowledges

this triumphant march of spirit,

as all abound.

We, as the participants,

then have the oneness

be this shared sound.

And we become this sound.

This joyful sound of what others call

"so she beat me

with the stick of her mind"

And we all seemed pleased

as we eventually abandon this measure

for the commonness of our shared light.