• Vol. 08
  • Chapter 05
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A vision of pine, a small island,
but what is this cuboid of light?
Could it be upside-down?

So we retrain the brain, the layer
melts, not cloud, sea flows into a cave
a fern canopy, no forest of evergreen

Yes this makes sense, so surreal
I turn and turn again. Which do I prefer?
The friable roof of a screen of ferns

the friable laptop roof, I refrain
from resting the view upside-down
to stay between ghostly cliffs, no island

no terra firma. Why else fall
for the impossible, imagined dream?
Doesn't everyone want to return
their feet to earth on the ground?