A fruit that lands on soil
Is anew, thus flowers truth
That truth as in weight
Is rainbow’s wheel
For example, was our love
/ Never written, almost omitted /
Groundwater, flute that
Tiles a face green or a hand white
Fake in its lamp’s trace
Gadfly in a skirt and tie
Rainwater, dub’s left eye
Dividing tribe’s only kite
I remember a letter
No longer than a right
Seeking echo’s face in
Plato’s dog like a wound’s drawl
That over there was a lake
A table for crossing out lines
However, we made color, we
Caved in with opposite eyes
So, is it ground or rain water
Fake or fate’s water circling
Our spiral with a hand on bible
Wetting its plastic like would night
A fruit that lands on soil
Burns into gloom antithesis
Of form of flavor of a bed of salt
To find its hand in another hand.
