cone-warm in my palm
your eye fits snug and blinks
like sun through packed-in trees.

if i close it then i can walk your whole
(your woodland in my red boots
grows out my world).

your ivy finds my sockets
and lit-up glades of pink-
the tiny bones that make up feet.

my fingers reach to nest you.
tangled in ringless branches
your hair

is tusks

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