My Body Is The Fruit Of Spirits'

My Body Is An Avatar.

How Can I Follow My Heart When It's Waiting Around For The Rest Of Me To Make The Decision?

The Illusion Is We Are Only Physical.

Purity Of Heart Is Blooming The Same Colors In The Middle Of The Wilderness When No One Sees You.

It Is Interesting To Note That Poetry, A Literary Device Whose Very Construct Involves The Use Of Words, Is Itself The Word Of Choice By Persons Grasping To Describe Something So Beautiful It Is Marvelously Ineffable.