Beginning To Rust

In the bent

shaped mind

is an elastic morsel

of human flesh

that can devour

heart shaped popsicles

which melt the sun

In the distance

is a gasoline truck

filled with molten lava

stolen from the sobbering

mountain of glass shaped icesicles

It is a breath 

of early morning moss

as it awakens

in the moonlight

that I see your face

laughing at the tin man

who is beginning 

to rust.

Author's Note

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