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What has happened this instant Is as though you have been dived Into the door of the sea Of new Some strangers' oars Rowing you out Into the deep blue The salt and violet jellyfish Surprise The aurora as it spins you around The stars as they smash you In gold dust Found Where are we going? One who wanders doesn't wonder The vault in their foot Charts the heavens asunder Let's play surgery On the weary And dress them In civilization-sized Celebrations Now we are partners In crime Against crime How fast Our fortunes turn When a moment Of elation Finds us And our lulls Are taught Unlearn We freeze the ocean On a popsicle stick And set it like a lake In space Upon which with words we skate 'til the sun thaws us out And all the leagues of coral Flora and fauna Swim through us Wind through cape Ripple through drape Knife through fate As a poem grows Wine from wait Where once upon a time, I was a tree, and people came to find and caress me in cuts, and melted me in pรขtรฉ cream factories, and splayed me with pigments of ink, from my forest floor plants, and glue from the horses' feet, who echoed in trot beside me, and then I was bought and sold, by convoluted labors, and stamped with pictures, of places I'd never dreamed I'd see, flew through the jetstream, and landed in your eyes' light gleam I am a helix, speaking to your DNA, whose brushstrokes paint the presence of your days, and the dust from off your settled gaze. You are the ribbon and the reason, why everyone looks amazed, and prays, knowing there's an answer that works, once the mystery we unbraid, all that's hidden, in a single, hey

Comparison is the thief of joy, compares thief and joy. And if joy was thieved, then comparison would be in possession of joy. Stolen joy, sure, but hey. If joy ain't for sharing, and worth stealing, what is. And if your joy is so easily stolen by mere juxtaposition, then was it really joy at all? True joy revels in being stolen, because it already knows it belongs to everyone. True joy enjoys even the hint of comparison, where it can play in the colourful fields of contrast, and cultivate the varieties of eyes' spices. But if you're going to take it so seriously and cling to it so dearly, desire it so fervently and pilfer it so mercilessly, then joy will steal itself away, for you to compare with silly, and return a little joy to your face, by whacking you with a lily ๐ŸŒบ