The Open Matt Project

Contractor

What is revealed when the sphere of the world contracts and your senses retreat to include only the awareness of a worm, curling and contracting in the earth?

Your skin, your breath, the gurgling undulations of your gut, the taste of your teeth running across your tongue, the panting huff of animal breath, all dismissive of the trappings of anything more than this, than these. The crust of sleep on an eyelid, muscles tensing a hand to a claw slaved to desires, the ground punching walking heels, the lashing of cold and heat and dry and wet and stillness and noise. The ever present, pressing urgencies of sexing, consuming, excreting, fucking, eating, shitting.

Elegance and crudity in harmony; this is the banal creature that pilots life's creation. This pulsing urge, devoid of time, sets the heartbeat for all the glory and terror that builds above it, dreaming of abstract perfections by the light of the primal's burning.