Photo Source: Public Domain Photos The Fuchsia Tree I am become the tender fuchsia tree, As it sings its grapples upwards, In delicate stretches, Each soon to turn thick bark, Yet smooth to touch, And bursting with flowers and fruit, Its fullness unconcerned By withered leaves, And I am aware, too, of my seed, How it opens to the tongue, Leaving behind it only mingled air, And a hint of citrus fruit, Its taste a memory born in retrospection – And this lightness is fantasy, A...

Photo Source: Unsplash Uncertainty I asked first: How I could know – if the music, soft and hard in equal measure, that elastic of fibrous flesh, of bone strung to-bone tendon to tendon, pressure point to pressure point even unto the tracks along which I, thinking, send sparks – neuron to neuron – all of it one holy revelation of light and sound. if that music that has begun to bind me to becoming...