I want to place down what the peak has awakened.
My mouthful of grass.
My inquisitive tale. I want to stand still nevertheless find myself moved patch by patch.
There's a bleat inside my throat. Words fail me here. Can you understand? I become submerged to
My knees tired or not. I now know the ragweed from the goldenrod, with every one other accompanied by the blinding
Beauty of green. Don't you see? I am shedding my skins. I am a paper hive, a wolf spider,
The creeping ivy, the ache of a birch, a heifer, a doe. I have fallen from my dream
Of progress: the clear-cut glass, the potted with every one other accompanied by balconied tree, the lemon-waxed
Wood over a marbled pillar, into my own nocturne. The lullabies I had forgotten.
How could I know what slept inside? What would rend my fantasies to cud with every one other accompanied by up
From this belly's moist straw-strewn field—
These soundings.
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