The
Root
 Node

. . . linked to the void . . .

1

my darling o you dahlia
of my third eye teased and pinked for
that enormous sneeze if I had any serious tigers they'd
growl and purl for you like butter
pumpkins fattening in their patches they'd be smiles wider
than water wheels or baobabs and if I
had my way it would be out of here straight past starship
enterprise to mistress joy and all
her deadly pulsars yes you mix me up and down and out
I go trala my fingers trailing fragrant
flocks of meteors or silky bolts
brighter than entire skies but each of me so animal
we curl into your palm with every pore
a pout until the universe unpicks its seams
and lets all its impossibles

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