just about eye height

the second board from the left of the splintered shelf in the shed
and its just about why i

stand beside the wasps nest in calm sweat like palms melt somewhere in my pockets
but its more about the time by

which i find a trowel on the wall beside the power that ive always needed to decide to recall
because its really when my mind dies

that i find that such denial can be freeing although always seeming fleeting
and thats the moment with my eyes wide

stuck inside the shed