the light dripping crimson
on the malodorous monotony
man-made trees like hives in honey
bees in the leaves
reason is out the forested window
make mangroves now to rest in their purple shade
yes we can rest here
and drink in white noise
creeping vines designed striking
light from the sky in anxiety
fuck piety when
we are not at parity you and i
the very law forbids that choice
but i can look in your eyes
and we can come to an understanding
the hands and hammers of powers that be
buzzing up and up on the rising crimson tide
to the tops of the trademarked trees and then
sublimate into air
we made the roots
come out of this dissembling ground
let them fall
fingers in ears la la la
deaf to their despair
and maybe
be free in the forest
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