Like a list of plenty
Pretty red shiny apples
Hanging gingerly from a
Smoked tree covered in thorns
We rub our backs among the goose
A flicker of eyeball sockets
Flashing and snipping past
Like this is where I am now
And I once was sweating in the summer sun
Somewhere else
And then somewhere else.

A bucket of uncertainty
I see through a telescope
I could go any which way
And perhaps then the squashing buckling fear in me
All that freedom
All that liberation
My creative imagination
Sometimes tangling itself in
And out.

Like a flurry of butterfly wings aflame
I'm not sure
No, I'm not sure
There's no stability here
Except for within me
So I must stop fighting it
I must stop hiding from it
Everything I thought I knew
Has changed.

I hold myself
And no, I don't have to
There is always attention
A number growing and evolving
Until it just decides itself
With compatibility I suppose
And I don't ask anymore
"Where is he?"
Because I've lost the will
To hunt.