trees moaning on a crust of earth,
islands floating in hot blue air,
cream-puff islands with neon signs,
strings of light leading
to the heart of the ancient forest,
cloth stained from an interior world
drying in the ice of dawn.
Plastic cabins overturned
with an array of ribbons
coursing through violet roots.
Keys dangling from a torn branch
hinge of a half open door
from dusk to hurt yearning dusk.
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