Hold this while I pack…
…or am I unpacking?
Neither, really, they’re just
two fallacies eyeballing
us, we shed our skins
whenever we grow out of them
or they grow weary of us
and we slither towards some
familiar thickets to scratch
our bellies, or to bathe in the
long dewy grass, home is
whenever the outside meets
the inside without touching
frequency is a matter of wear
You can keep that…
…I never use it