too high

let’s write the words that float

a boat for green shoots

singing different melodies through

the succulent on her desk

the shades of ever never the

same

one sails lyrical, the other prosaic

shan’t be bored by any one

chord come on mama let me

hear you come alive because

a mountain needs moved from under

to over

so lungs don’t fail me now and they

will ask no more.

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