45*21

I need your mind for a second
how old is the tree that grows inside
when your heart becomes glass it breaks
there are sectors within sectors
and when you pull the little string
hear the bluebird's wings as they brush the collar
I'll take a cup of tea
for a minute we stare deep into the cave
I'm not saying you're being stupid when you whisper high
and the single embers rise and dance
your mind in a need for a second
it drags on like a horn
when you figure how the pieces are put together
it will be a trick for the wilderness of candy
I haven't hypnotized you yet
yet you dazzle with imperfection
it is not your fault anymore than time
the boat is moored to the candlestick
can you see now with your fingertips
it is the no nature of crayon bricks
and they'll tell you what you've done and disappeared