My soil
Fertile and irrigated
Abundant water
Flowing deep and torrential
Undammed waterfall

Your wand
Poking chubby clouds
Exceptional precipitation level
Fast flowing river
Amazonian mode

Your wand and my soil
Never, I said, never
a drought

Standing up before the forked road:
This direction? That way?

In one hand a spoonful of doubts
In the other a penknife of precision

Eventually
she cut out her own way
sipping bitterness

The forked road into a trident boulevard
Good and Evil
hand in hand
side by side
avec elegance

oh, boy...

it felt like a circus
coming to the middle of nowhere:
my heart spit fire,
walked a tightrope,
performed a back somersault,
laughed with the sad clown,
ate cotton candy and popcorn,
did the cancan dance
and thumped home
percussively joyful!

(final notice: circuses move. the show must go on)

And then there is this huge orange half-moon
And then there is this huge pale full-longing
to have you the moon and me
the perfect sandwich ever.