Can I escape my inner me? Only if I take to the woods with thee. Where I must bathe in dirt and soake in sap. Where the air is so thin that I must breathe it again and again and again. Where butterflies mate and meet by the lake; fly up to the meadows to lay their little eggs on the purple and sage flowers that the caterpillars like to eat until they get fat and climb into the trees to turn into goo and then something new. To return once again to the lake to mate. They gather like scales on the dragon’s back, reflecting yellow and black like the sun on a stack of golden tiles that fly off now and again with the wind. They send my thoughts to the deer that disappear and appear out of the bush when you didn’t know where to look and see them standing right there in front of me. A Buck and three Does, a family so it seems, they fly off through the bush with a bound that makes no sounds and disappear into the beams of the sunset. So, yes I say I can escape with this outer Me when I spend time in the woods living this life with these — My Family.
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