solid, stable, present
i re-enter the mold
edges grinding, sliding,
little passing collisions

my edges are jagged again
rolling, bumping and jumping
along shifting terrain
no longer settled

scratches form,
minute to the eye
but etched on my skin,
welts left in the walls

holes i made to fill with myself which i could never serve

quicker and quicker, noise builds
my core exposed under the blemishes
a rattling, radiating engine
excited amongst all the fumes

where others would repair,
or dissipate tension,
i burn
turn to smoke

there's no real pressure
but my temperature rises
i raise my heat specifically to escape
attempting to relieve internal density

floating out of the mold again,
where i have collected myself so many times over,
no longer unsettled

i cherish this peace
with the sacrifice of being weightless
unpacked and unsolidified in the wind
seeing the distant commotion

i still yearn to be in that mold
but i know what will happen

that i have
and will
sublimate

this spider wraps its acquaintances
into easy packages
constructing webs around observation

its foundation catches prey
automatically
it bites the heads
off its mates

but it loves most
those who defy these expectations
cannot be contained
or predicted

at first they're an adversary
but that maintains a purpose
which this spider chooses to uphold

what truly engages this spider challenges its livelihood
escapes its method
not for strength or validation
but to reveal its routine was not purposeful at all

i walk through, seeing all the glass and china
vases, plates
on endless shelves, so tall and so long
priceless heirlooms

in them i see reflections
myself or others
or i see through the glass
warping surroundings, mistaken for substance

enamored with what's within reach,
i need to touch it
reaching as far as i can
tipping it with the ends of my fingers

i can collect its pieces
but its form is shattered
image scattered
dust over the floor

blood staining the room
i need to leave
prevent more damage
snap out of the dream

away from the wares
feeling horns budding out
and a tail emerging
and the pain as they take my body

the stork's beared many gifts
and it's finally come to interact
looking to enlist others
expanding its territory

in the guise of understanding
you copy it, an homage
selfishly sharing in its moment
as if it needs your acknowledgement

the bird ain't here to touch itself
it wants to diversify its flight
mastering treaded path isn't proof of carving one's own

the stork can't fly through a mirror,
it needs a door