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8.2.15

In how the wood of your branches held me
while blindly searching with the tips of my feet
for holes that would hold.

With eyes to the sky and hands that never left your trunk,
my fingers slid between the bark and across your front
I raised myself.

Through your canopy I emerge and respire
an air so pure it floats

One arm outstretched, one arm to hold
Balanced between safety and sweetness.

I take your peach in my fist like a pearl in a ring.
A stone set in gold.
and eaten whole.

On the descent
a hollow in the bole.
I found the honey in your tree.
and never tasted something so dirty and sweet.
Then still climbing down, it clung to me.
In a long sticky wire all the way to the ground.
That shone with an amber that left the sun wanting.
And with no shade to hide her
the rays that she sent
 illuminated that tacky gold
against all her will.

A choice for power to reach lightyears beyond,
comes not with the strength for control.

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