what you will

in the dire

dystopia,

 

in the myopic

mire,

 

god.

 

in the nebulous

nucleus,

 

in the diurnal

rituals,

 

god!

 

blinds,

coffee,

electrical umbilical cords,

pacts to mother-love our evolving selves,

trapeze webs of arms and legs and hearts and heads,

surprised star-bursts in your steps across the wide wet acres:

 

where the painterly absurdity absorbs all of the colors but you.

 

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