Sproutlings, my fountain, zest
I sketched a thought upon a napkin
To hand onto a passing Toucan
Some token of my affection
I'll act as if you never got.
Some time back I lit a fire in this spot
Not that block that blazes up the way
Down the charred path ashen grey
I wonder how that caught.
There was a sapling on this street
I've searched for day and night
Perhaps if I climb this tall tree
I'll get a clearer sight.
Feather bale, the sun was better with you
Finding myself in the long grass
Corridors booby trapped with anticipation
Your voice like a trapeze harness. Pinstripe suit
The sun was better with you.
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