Hello Talking Animals
|The logic of pain. Pain tolerance. Pain loss, pain's memory, pain's fascination. The awareness of pain, how it dances, how it begins, creating itself, developing the heavy lidded dull, perhaps sharp edge - no, the dull throbbing kind, the kindness, the specific joy of pain down through the nerves - exposed - sliding along invisible blood red threads that you can't, you don't see - these minute tentacles of laughter, however you know they are there.
The roots of pain bellow well below the surface of appearances, growing down into cold hearted tissue. It needs a biopsy. What's that? A lab tech's evaluating, analysis under a microscope - sterile environment, free of dust, germ free; tissue and a semi-colon; all in the same sentence which, after five days of blizzards is the perfect opportunity to be sitting outside with an iced coffee at dusk near a water fountain pen resolving the pain issue tissue, yanking it out after inserting 3-4 needles filled with antiseptic solutions into gum tissue, so soft, so pliable, how they massage tissue preparing it for a needle, one of those heavy duty stainless steel syringes made in Finland probably, with a perfect circle for a finger so the downward thrust of pressure is constant and now bewildering.
This is what happened and it didn't take his well trained discernment eye more that a nano-second after the partial was removed to see the tooth, as witnessed from inside near the interior monologues, dialogue, red stormed flesh dancing with pain ( a sickness leaving the body ) how now the birds fly, free from pain winging one true sentence.
It would have to come out, how the old recalcitrant reclusive tooth had served it's large print purpose dancing with food, clicking gum lined stories (some never to see the fine print) never the less dazzling to the extreme pleasure of pain, how it was a vast comfort, this pain and it was well worth remembering and nurturing, hearing "18 Musicians" by Steve Reich Ensemble speaking as the heart beat out it's death defying rhythm pulsating along beating faster than shadows leaving themselves in the labyrinth of love. In theory.
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