14

thickness overtakes, sinks low to sit on the earth. the sky has tipped over, still full of our fingers and so we too tip, we're woozy weather trust-falling into rearrangement. the moon keeps perception separate while we needle around the point of us upended. everything about this figuring is sharp. the day has fallen, too, it gets away from us, breaks for where the forest thickens. even the shore can't seem to right itself so we beg horizon, drink anything our mouths can find. something has to balance us on our booming, right? we'll swear off adorning -- adoring, even! desperation makes the weird bead off us until we stick straight up. a shame.
            i put myself deep in the water
                                             and clutch my new life of disorientation. everything about me is a circle, i'm sure of it. i suck a circle candy to its goo state, fashion the warm sugar so it will harden tears. there's no crying under the water (or only crying? i am still learning what's true here). it's just me and the sea for some years and i haven't thought about my knots, i do not even know if they are knots down here, or up here, or in the vast middle. i haven't solved direction yet and i hope i never do.