A resplendent shade of magic
like the first leaf of spring
tentative on the lips of a breeze.
Papyrus tales crumbling in the
ancient soil will someday form
a part of me.
Goblin fruit under marshmallow clouds
slowly filling my beer belly as I lie
on ochre grass somewhere on a sunspot.
Chartered underworld somewhere
in another galaxy stolen from the light
rules in forgetful command.
Dessicated wheatgrass on my
armlet laughs at the anklets on
the feet of a cloud, chains
extending beyond my imagination.
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