Truth isn't an absolute
Truth is ever bending.
Mutating by the millisecond.
We know this.
So when we speak our truth ::
Allow for its pores to open and receive fluidity and its joints to gain space for movement and depth and leaves to fall for its death.
Allow for it to catch broken hearted flames and burn and spark to the ground.
Allow your whole truth be the in breathe and let an entirely different truth straddle and ride the exhale on out.
Allow your whole truth to hold the mystery and stories of the entire world, not just your own, the collections from the bones under the bones under the bones.
Allow your whole truth to be meshed with someone else's, fully, and allow your truth to have the courage to stand in isolation, fully alone.
Allow for parts of your truth to be borrowed by others for the growth of the highest good, for the flame and beauty of this truth to spread generously, in conversations of all kinds.
Allow your truth to be un-truths and part fiction, woven and stitched together by you, for you. For them. For each of them.
Allow for your truth to be a tapestry that can hammock and rock a bye the entire world to sleep.
Allow your truth to rest.
Allow your truth to never harm.
Allow your truth to be unsafe.
Allow your truth to be a threat.
Allow your truth to be dangerous.
Allow your your truth to be incarnated art.
Allow your truth to be nothing.
To be refuted so many times over and over, changed and negated and birthed again that's it's just the essence of Truth, anyway, filled with every particle, every cry, every sense of what's left.