Friday, September 5, 2014

Random Freudian Exegesis

A root got loose –
deracinated from green-umber
into puce, then into pink –

became a thing
that found that it could think –
and then as it grew eyes

and proto-horns
and proto-wings and blinked –
and linked into your dream

last night -- it altered
you, this sprite –
and left you in surprise.

Somewhere in this lies
a moral and a lesson:
a confession.


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