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That fire, they said, was red as red as redas red as a fox, your lips, a cherry;that fire, they said spread and spread and spread,faster than a cheetah or a nasty rumour;
Now we're up on the edge
and over, on the mountain
with mountains beyond. Behind us,
in the dark
I am the word juggler.I juggle the wordslike swords.I slice sensewith poetic license.
We're floating into the blue,Me and my blue balloon.Over the rooftops of the town,The brown fields and the treesAnd the Downs – we're floating,
Miss Flotsam was my reception teacher.She had travelled the world.Brown hair turned goldenunder distant suns,clothes carrying coloursfrom countless corners of continents.
Itty-bitty. Bat. Tittle-tattle. TatShilly-shally. Shout. Dilly-dally. OutWilly-nilly. Woo. Silly Billy. Boo!Roly-poly. Rip. Pitter-patter. Pip
There is a place (believe me,
she said) where if, if
All you see is outside me: my painted smile,the rosy-posy shell, the fluttery eyes.A butter-won’t-melt-in-my-mouth-type me
...not white like the snow
more moon-panther or silvery cloud-cat
This is the kingdom of the Water Bear.
To enter here, you have to shrink
and slow down, down. A day
is one tick of the clock, one blink