That hole in the sky,
will close some day,
some wholly
inconvenient
way, as we wander
on a woodland path;
one that winds as
dragons pass,
and cry fire
into morning air; one
that leads
to everywhere, and
nowhere
all at once,
with a toll gate that
charges
in fingers
and thumbs and a cow
that jumps over the
moon – we will have
our fairytale,
me
and you,
if the story
takes the rest of our time,
every sweet on the
candy-trail
was laid to find, and
light
our merry walk,
and we will stop
and savour them all,
we have forever
left
to talk.
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