splendid when fed
by the moistness of
love - our labors
full of sonic agony
felt from our muscles
and our bones that
slammed themselves
into ourselves - this
sublime white-and-
burned love, the urge
to throw ourselves
to the order of the
trees and flora and
fauna, their subtle
wishes measured in
specks in history, moments
of shrieking reversal,
us showing them
the way we humans
do it, take it, make nature
sink down into
her slumber when
she grows weary
of the quivering but
we keep going without
her light
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