My bosom, edge between plant magic and human engine,
Drifts off in a puzzle, to outer realms of sound, where dwell
Harpies, and mermaids, people with tails, in inhuman
Dreams that colonise within my bosom, my heart
Itself both monster and engine, outer regions entering
In, when, of a sudden I wonder where have I gone?
In stralia, course, colonised by a heart of difference,
No longer earthen, but something awake in an engine,
On this edge, your smile, wordless in answer,
Beckons, like a bird moving thru a tree, universe moving thru
Me, planted in regions roving far, my bosom in your car
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