laugh or cry
she can't decide.
won't be tied
to any position,
all colors
and textures
a blinding web
demanding nothing
and everything
too much pressure,
scattered
potentials
outrun us all
light years,
tracers from thousands
of phantom
timelines
and we can see it
in the trees
sometimes
derisive
leaves
shake, roll
flourish, fall, fold
the muck feeds
the roots and
the generational shadows
taunt us,
the language fails
the reptile parts
and we run
or we
devour.
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