my gods are trees
they visit me
in nocturnal whims
of the mind
their massive trunks
dressed in layered bark
are the columns
of their own great temples
and they lay me
in their coiled roots
where their May drift
cotton has collected
I lazily watch the dance
of emerald gleam
adorning their lofty crowns
and hearing their
heartbeat within my chest
I know that I
was one of them
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