tension pull of fall or flow
flowers sprouted but still below weaving thread through symbiotic the rise semibiotic movements biology doesn’t understand, reading with dyslexic eyes DNA not meant to comprehend the rise webbed between earth and sky bodies are shelled hulls the bodies the rise human locusts in swarm, of swamp, tragedy tethered, a fine class-less rope mucus nosed feeling in lightning streaks water seeps through our clothes the rise so many cries, as the ones left on the ground we cry harder hands empty without reach fold as dead insects new origami to replace old gestures missing our warm treasures the rise symbolic tears, we call rain the new 911 rain reminds us of waves, we shudder fearful of curves we cannot see over the top of normally these are called hills or mountains those we aim to climb the rise waves ourselves, waving goodbye upwards, slick slack bodies fly breaching the gap between our realities the human sea makes us sick the falling liquid - what is it? the rise to spin sunlight from night-time thundercloud sinews we loom new veins to transport all our loss and these ruby highways these ruby highways keep our dreams safe the rise a manhattan of feet the last we see specking the most familiar - family to become shapes we can’t recognize with clarity like airplane or star? mechanical or chemical? closer or far? inevitable - these events settle as dragging iron yoke on our soaked shoulders we shivered before the cold and do again enveloped the rise our blue-ribbon goodbyes those prized, pried we always look up it’s our memories, our hearts, grand connection the vast sky and the clouds where we last saw them the rise the sun rises the sun rises the sun rose all things belong to soil so many sing of gardens
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