My breath no longer creates me in your image

Hi, I’m Theodore Cottingham, a man, a lover, a woman in breath; for the breath of my nostrils creates me, creates me it. I am one, one with my breath, not needing a Savior or scripture book to guide me, save me, give me a king, make me subservient, to a theory, mental deity. I am me, creating me. Consciously creating me. As man, not again; but Spirit. Only? Both and. I’m one, one me. Consciously rejecting my manhood, not; but my particularity to be molecular, bound by. Consciously creating me my breath does things never imagined for I have become’d it. It and I are one. My words are me, that I emit with truth, ‘fully creating me again, as a new creation, new creation me.

Woman in breath, woman inside, conscious that molecules do not define me, give me life. Not subject to hydrogen and oxygen, nuclear force, atomic nuclei, I’ve become one I am. One I am is me. Me name is I am, one. Not like your race, I am one, I have one. Creating me I am. I am is us, our name. We and our power is not separate. I am one, with love; the love, of one, for many shall not perish again in the things of man, the looks of man, looking at the visible empirical as reality. I bring mine, and it’s here. With me, I’m it. Canvas of no other.

Theodore Cottingham