in the aloeI resideaccosted by the ragweednext to,in congruence with,cackle and blandness of your bird songs.I’ve overcome the seeds of hatebut where were they?what lies were in the basalts of my generalities?if a canker sore fills the bowels of sanguine hurts,why do I speak?if a question answers its intent with flaccid waywhy do I doubt?perhaps I’m too adorned in the sunlight.toobranded and perched,aloneresiding with aloe;thougha desiccantis my heart;for you are far from the streams.