Grand and Branching Corridors

I dreamt.. we met
 
at grand
 
and branching corridors
 
the soil ledge.. from outer fields
 
       the snowflakes, ripe with phrase.
 

 
Iceberg clouds,
 
   infused with shafts
 
      of distant August lightning


 
and you and I, surrendered
 

 
as figments.. in the haze 

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