Sometimes I go like,
I ask for sugar,
the kind of sugar that is okay for you,
but not really,
not so good for you to begin with,
and I worry a bit,
just a bit,
here and there,
about where it will take me,
until I don't,
because I get so high,
up there,
with my hands climbing up to you,
to your clouds,
and I think and know you are on higher ground,
clasping my Laura Ingalls Wilder,
while I wait for the flood
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