my face is down on gently burning cedar
is that going to be my blush
a bird that was silent is singing i think i've been revived
i'm laying on a ramp for legs to be elevated when i can't go
cept mask in mask of on off shoulder as with unpreened wing
but to a stack of nature to breathe
as fermented food to all of its stage
versus mercury etcetera creeping in skirting issues
i was awakened by all being gone
now a phone call but first miscarriage
mcs stands up to thistle view
increments matter as not crying to sobbing
birth to check theirs or brittle
to not be botted up either but as breastfed by amalgam angioama
for mamma to taste afterall
or by what to yoke beyond yolk
frame of time as one's picture a calendar
who's puts us out of box though in though like peep from family tree trunk to fly to limb
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