Growth Buds once burst from my fingertips And each crevice of my mind. No, rather ‘burst’ is the wrong word And yet it isn’t, not really. ‘Burst’ as in that strange slow-frame unfurling And simultaneously exploding Motion, as if a handkerchief pulled with fluid flourish And pride from the magician’s cuff. Yes burst. They once burst forth And revealed themselves, myselves Clumsily but gayly from their shrivelled brown shell And with tireless zeal spread out And out And out Growing Growing Gone.
Sammie ❤️
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