the controversial seven-pointed leaf
that they had ground with little knives
and rolled and lit on fire
and breathed and breathed --
it took effect.
and then they asked me to make sounds with them,
sounds from our favorite metal strings,
blue sounds, and gritty sounds,
but later smooth
sounds, smoother sounds.
and when the bar of steel touched steely strings,
it slid, it wavered in my hands --
they thought it sounded like
an angel or
another world.
the time was not right on between the strings,
nor was it accurate inside
their fuzzy heads within
and fuzzy heads
also without.
but it was good and fuzzy, in and out,
fuzzy and clear, the sounds, the strings,
their heads but not my head,
giggling mouths,
mystical sounds.
