Phantasms sneaking
out of blooms
in gardens
often guiltily
seek pardons
that the
Universe
will always
grant:
to slip away
from
the embodied
plant –
become the
ghosts
of all the
stems and roots
that were
their hosts –
is not, in
fact, a sin:
spirits of
the vegatively
actual remain
contractually
in another indivisibly,
invisibly embracing
power –
the Universe
becomes
what it has
always been:
their only flower.
.
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