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the air today is.
not more, not less. the leaves
have their way with me,
siphoning steam and things
that are no more true than
clothing or colour. a separation.
it’s all so funny.

a little more naked.
I tread soft and silent, as if,
(this here is a truth), I could get so
quiet I could dissolve, right inside
the air itself, the way of it.

I peel away, a colubrid scrubbing
itself against a rock. malleable.
pliant. willing to change.

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