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Sunrise tree    


What is it in the planet that so
Disorients the atmospheric molecules
As to produce electrospasmic storms?

Is it that spite does not die
In the flesh but accumulates
Around our sad little bearing
To motivate the universe
As it motivates us?

Are our paisley dreams of such explosive
stuff they rise into the stratosphere
To court galvanic kinships there?

I know a woman with skin
In such electricity the lightning
Fell in love with it and
Splits the sky in jealousy
When I touch myself to it.

The planet is a spherical and
Spinning generator that brushes us
Constantly against the fur of gods.
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