child smoke

ashe’s’ waiting to beam aid

to soften the veil between us

animated with spark

seemingly – not of this place

seeking a thee in spaces

universal diads

positionless ponderances

hooks and latches

looks to find hatches

from dream into dreams

laughter tickled by loving screams

wait

the ladder has no start, no finish

no direction and

don’t stop pointing.

our children are born of smoke

just assured as flame must burn f’you’l

passing go

towards ashe’s’

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