I was almost a bee by the time I was born under propylene beams I was two days old by the bee by the bay I was under moon wood that was why I would lie in the grasses at sunset was new & cicadas were still under nights by the light it was listening mountains yodelled their blades sharp as I was travelling backwards was time a part of a star's dim arrival it was there in the way you were walking & it was almost time to go I was sliding down the honey hill the future was a tree we had become a leaf at last at last


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