Make the World Magic Again
We wanted strangeness
redwoods falling upwards
communion with bees draped in tiger striped fur jackets
minding their own business
we were alive and buzzing free.
When she said fungus we lost control
her mouth gaping white as a mushroom moon
star teeth circling her serpent tongue
unregulated laughter, natural happiness
as if 2016 never happened.
When she said truffle-sponge and dipped her hands in mud
we melted into something sacred
the funny faded to gossamer
and we shimmered through the woods
golden auras stripped down to essential softness.
It took six hours to land again
back into the world that wants to deny
the magic of our existence.
Returning, eyes shrunk back to form
we sat on the park-bench and wept.