The question

The question of who I am comes to me often, usually without invitation

I don’t have one answer but many

Some times, none

No words can contain who I am

Or who you are

The structure of society is “happening” as I exist as I am

The lives and the jobs and the salaries and the friends and the injustices and the privilege and the marriages and the pregnancies—desired or oundesired—and the children—loved or underserved—and the violence and the abuse and the love making and the ideas—or complexes—and the data and the academia and the drugs and the parties and the music and the arts and the car and the planes and the antigen tests. 

Everything moves, everything passes 

As I exist as I am

Whatever that means

Whatever Whitman meant that to be 

Piggybacking (or monkey-backing) with Hanuman, in Chhattisgarh, in female form… 

“When I forget who I am

I serve you

When I know who I am 

I am you”

🐵