Pomegranate

Working the water-line the apple haunts the edge of— A shard of selenite is said to clear negativity. Like a stained glass window. Against the rules, we coupled on your grandmother’s floor. Write it the way a Painted Lady explosion erases it.  Five minutes ago. Thus, you grow faint like bioluminescence. Pouring what I know into small vials.  Back and forth. Blur the field to include not-seeing. When we were a potted plant or something. Halved pomegranate knocked against a bowl. Thus, is every tree wild? Caretaker, so what if they do not look back at you—