write this tree summer tree which overshadowed
in my bones But you're reading
tree and uprooted every root
and carried to the garden that is your memory
to fly from one stage to another as Stepping
apalomado and returning to nowhere and you
fruit feel bite of that apple
is for you all that a tree should be
Or
clinging knees crying to last pine forest
broken and your final tree is already a pure Tues
And here just the tree that I have written
stands and laughs like a child
in the evening of the
cities
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