It’s a mixed up, muddlled up, shook up world

all the leaves are in sequence
and romance is a transplant
from another forest
where the breeze is a restless beduin
from when time began
statuettes gleaning the same breadth
as icicles, stalactites, or sunflowers

brace, here is yet another
reminder
that repetition isn’t repetition
from where time began
it is rejoined into
less than it has ever been
a negative consequence
bested

squares of pine, knotted
laid down into smooth sheets
but for splinters there would be no reminder
of times when bark split
by the warm touch of iron

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