sometimes I feel so full
of some colour of my consciousness
or some particle of this boundless ether
and i
an ebullient vessel
i feel like fruit left out in the sun
ripened, fermented
and there is warm sweet juice
leaking from my seams
sometimes I'm so full
of motley silliness
or of ambivalent desire
or of incadescent delight
that it will burst from me sporadically
a centrifugal force
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