the road they is moving beneath are tired legs the fast sun she already lost itself down below. there is the rattle of the lanterns on the wind and cool dew on the grasses husks cracking and a tall unlit stand of fruit trees(can’t quite make out). murk: i have not eaten herly and one tree they is laden with a full crop. my eyes would widened(she is not giving enough fruit [a corn’s weight worth]). the grass she is up to my ankles and touching my hem and inseam. greened stain on vulgar linen and the stand becomes an orcherd lined w/ greened husks and greening nettle leaves: she already for harvest. the nettle they is waiting to be grasped theyly they is already stinging palms and bared greening soles of feet. the trees she is only one one tonight up past tops of heads and they is grasping that greened black moon saying always. she moon is stinging to her mare ass to tender always and they to tranquil always. my stomach she is rumbling and she need the greener fruit hiding by the moon. my hands they is shaking and beating the side of that tall tree: they is saying trees don’t fall for old wives tails but my tail she beats the side of the tree to. lanterns rattle again they is waking up and is the owl waiting at a rathole or am i just trying to open a can of beans since her fruit is hanging high. their eyes she is grasping harder and stirring or churning something above my head(they is nervy and unsure). the fruits they is sighing and clatter down like silver they wood have eyes in the tree. the eyes she seeing are fruit. would eyes she feeling can open her. the her she is feeling a can opener they say its not to rusty yet and to keep the arm steady. my eyes open and my mouth she is full of iron and walnut and they is now shaken my fruit her down past her moon into they nettles at my toes. the trees she is pouring a cordial into my mouth and they is warning of wind and rain in her eyes they need to be filled to. the cans she have opened and they is having her feast on it and we are still walking shaking them and feeding her. the sun she is sticky and the moon she is smooth and cool and they shake the grass to sooth her lips they loudened hair and we all greened.