I wonder what they will say to me, when they discover I am not where they left me.
Taped underneath three boulders with fruit roll ups the length of highways.
I gather they will catch my scent in the overgrown hedge, spilling into daffodils.
Concave, electric lights scatter across the mile posts in the garden.
Where is my immortally beloved salmon spawn?
Where is all of the shiny buttons fit for the bell boys?
I wait with the bait set to ensnare the gluttonous, the quiet voice in me.
Shame to let mercy drain down into the circus crate.
Wholly grown from icicle dust, a magnolia unfurls at midnight.
Now where do I put the pennies?
Now how do I finish the painting?
I smell coconut oil draped around cactus.
A thief in the mirror has confessed to everything.
I wonder what they will tell me, when they uncover warmed seats.
Agape, there is but a drop to drink.
I paddle for the shores of the witching tree.
— yiqi 17 December 2014 7:47 pm