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sticky, syrupy, soul,

drink of the porous presence

whose spirit is the nectar

that shapes the hands

that sew the seeds into the ground,

stitching them into the soil,

so honeyed lemon petals

expand and unroll,

spin and unfold



velvet planet

dusted in gold,

shake your soldiers loose

and let them fall away

into the bruised

and empty sky

to save the innocent fools

still standing in the clay.