I met an old woman lying next to a tree.
Her name sounded like a fever when she whispered it to me.
Her skin was the bark and her bark was the skin - all tied up in knots and cracking within.
Unfurling her hair like a hazelnut fury, she displayed her features in mild muted worry...
Layer on layer of beetle-back eyes over wheezing and stiring over saliva-stuck purring and I sat and I stayed only drinking a cupful when she laughed in her own mug and smashed at her saucer.
"Liquid-Sky Tea!" and she sang and she sang...
Her body inched slowly disrupting the ground while the sky grew a pale skin and tears tumbled down.
They smashed at her old face and fractured her smile - the porcelain mile seemed more in awhile.
But the path splayed out pretty and giddy entwined so I pounced on her spread grin and specked it with mine.
(we are infinite)
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