MY CARAPACE IS MY VIMANA
I'm dying to get out, to break away, to lose
this frightful, human coil. Oh, you bet then
too. Not that I wish to go away to somewhere
else, I just want to see the other side of things;
like where does that smoke go, or how does
the light just disappear? And to where? I want
my giant steps to cross over the fabric-land
I walk upon. I can fly, like a dream in old man's
cape, like the love note pressed between
the breasts of some wonderful woman.
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