too well, i know the second life of a dismemberd tree limb, as the many tiny propagating legs of insects make the beds of their new home.

in the light of day my nordic ice shard eyes, fear the demise of extended sun rise gaze.

as my cares are falling out of my pillow rested ear, all of my bones were replaced with pool noodles.

the air is thicker.

i long to return to that place i’ve never been.