Inside

Inside
countless fordable sorrows
in this picture
of
Frisbees
as the fall
from oil cloud-ovals
with lips and forest
surrounding moisture of a
rain-fortress
hollering
at
me

to enter and find
treasures
tucked in walls
of cave dwellings, cave
paining
reverberate

telling me
locations never
seen nor heard
by any atmosphere,
when

dark falls over the hunch
to build a fire is a must, slowly
rubbing twigs together
an itch forms on the backs of mud bricks

as they etch their
realties into the
sideways glints
of the flames

as they spark

hearts
shudder and house

never need mistake
days without each other,
but

rice grains of the brown
poppy center seasons adrift
within reaches of grocery store
spending may
dispel lists as the fluorescent lights
enter and receive

what the
forest had provide me for entrance

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