|Carpet of Moss by Drew Brayshaw|
an astral walk along the carpet
of green. its fibers sway
in sines, summoning the ancient
arithmetic of trembling
cleaves on their fragile legs.
the trees thicken inside their own
universe, and melt
with love, as they become
the water of my veins; all green.
i can hear the whole universe
speaking; from the old
space-time churns, to the cry
of the first wiggle
in wormy hyper-seas. i am
not lost. i am,
where i am always supposed to be.