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I saw a bride splendid in white garmentsI saw a woman with one hundred children The children plump and firm within her arms,
Your mother made me
just in case, she said,
which kinda freaked me out,
so I said to her,
Da Man is fine, babe.
I feel it, first as a stir,turning deep in the murky water.Surfaces up for air, a twitchon the lake in my head.A flip, and it disappears.
I am the clash and collide of the starsbecause I create worlds.
I am the awareness of the treesbecause I hear the wind.
It was the summer
when Now and Laters
cost a nickel
and The Fantastic Four,
When I met
Miss Flotsam was my reception teacher.She had travelled the world.Brown hair turned goldenunder distant suns,clothes carrying coloursfrom countless corners of continents.
I was born with a map of Australia on my face;it was beautiful, my mother told me – there was nobody like me in the whole wide worldwho could trace the edges of down under
Standing by the river, my face grewinto a flat fish and floated offto a lily pad, and I was lonelywithout myself, without my twin.
Spring is baby,bright, fresh and new,gurgling with the melting snow,singing with the first cuckoo.
Take an apple. Chop it into quarters.Count out three. These represent the lakesthat nestle inside countries, all the snaking