Rustling
Jumped up like a chair with tree legs.
I have enough exasperation.
And cheering for nothing.
That there’s all overhead.
And also dropping down like floaty puffs.
Currently, I’m within flat plane.
Wormy, and breathless.
Left behind jokes and deathly tree trunks.
The said it was instant as a paper printed with a single letter.
Typed out whirling sounds.
Rustling.
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