what happens to your body when the snake is actually a stick?
I feel my life shrinking into a few obsessions,
sleepless on two couches pushed together while
the real snake marks my parameters and
all day I dabble in crossing—
cherry picking with j and s j tells me about apple picking as a kid
with a friend’s parents, he kept asking them
when is this part of my life gonna be over
this reminds me of how he used to make a book with his hands and
cover his face when he didn’t wan’t to talk or felt guilty
s fills her bucket quickly and lays down in the shade
maybe its better to think thematically, let memories
unfurl outward like rays of sun
