And for a moment
I was somewhere else.
You remained behind, I think.
No—I don’t quite know
just where you were.
I was in some parallel.
Your arm became another’s arm,
and your skin another’s skin.
Tag: spirit
Mike, the Smoking Monstera.
incense streams smoke
up along the stem
clinging to a branch
and is diffused
through the leaves
rising in ladders
wish-washed
and drawn upward
through their holes
Apostles.
John
Paul
Ringo
& George.
Magical: Day One 