• Vol. 07
  • Chapter 02
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Milk me a cloud

Anchored by a broken world
I milk a cloud, it is my ceiling.

Supine through the Autumn haze
I felt the warmth of six flames
and dreamt of cake, I smiled.

There is no dither or delay, just one
principled judgement. One urgent
question, one meaningful vote.

One rain-filled cloud is always
someone's darkest day. It does not
just serve the interest of this house.
One level playing field.