Xylophone tumblings,
the keys a marble stair,
a fools plummet, this quiet melody,
his motley-wrapped body,
twisted in thought, lies upturned,
belled brow nodding to
happenstance
chords rebounding
he sleeps, dewing as grass,
quiet eyes knowing the sound of
a staring sky, eggshell ocean
calling magnetism,
he feels, acutely, he is falling
inwards of heaven.
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