i lean rather than sit
eyes regarding the bonsai
and linger as if denying green
on a foliage matter
in a glance taking in blue
and the palms and the rain
skewering leaves with a lengthy down
at times i count the offbeats beating off
in random times upon the puddles
with a watery splintering, softened thudding
plaintive within me, i feel a freefall
feel hidden here, in reality hiddenness
is not a possibility in a conscious world
i cannot hide even here, the rain touches me
and i am found,
i wonder if i should relinquish eden
the possibility of hiddenness, but i deny even this
to myself
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