in the 1/60 th

mbrazfield (c) 2020

i never recall at what time it happens the death coveted by bones veins flesh and cells for regeneration not sure anymore where the motivation comes to them my last thought was of “heart of darkness” Conrad did you take my pen i think you’re watching too much news while the truth slips in and out your eye lids he said my plant she sits in her ever patient pot looking at the tree romeo and juliet my third eye is pink today and burns like fire water yet in and out of REM my plant and i glide through the sky her roots firmly pressed in dime store soil and my soul torn out by its tangled roots

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