Is this a sandwich?

If only I had been born
A fish
Instead of a monster



shivering fawn


of spaces from shells to sands
always assumed within the counted ones
until proximity loosens our hair and the piles of stardust from our palms

loosening the locks of our starry gathered umbrals
and we can not be numbered


some in our arms upon rising leave behind the nights costume

heading out into the day to the rooms of the world outside where we uncover nakedly
things of our former selves
to set them up stark against the foliage
like paper cutouts of secret silhouettes
or swinging statues
we forgot
to click off
still swinging around in the back yards of our dreams

it is a wilderness that is not so much Rousseau like

although it is built of the momentum of wanting and its debris

sorting through the flotsam floating wreckage
we are racoons in the trash
of a statue garden

because
want looks and want searches and want wraps us up until we are the wanted, or not
and it becomes us

accumulating in the garbage to hunt or to pick each other between the waves we come in like waves and we go out like waves and the tides and the moons send us running off or to bury ourselves amidst the discarded furs of others we try to

bury ourselves in the sand becoming sand

or topple off the used upness of castles crumbling in topples off each other in heaps like

little stones like flakes of skin or leaves or the beginning of snow where it is very still

and we are the snow and we


try to catch us in our open mouths but tout le monde runs out



and we are cold sparks


in infinite dusts

in fragments of foam

in blown up marble

and we are swept off

and
we will not be ours

but flicker in twirls of differentiation simultaneously forever




and one finds oneself in it and one is familiar with it and one can be in it with everyone else everywhere crystallized or melting otherwise this is not a world




and we are all strange animals that try to go into the others and protect ourselves at the same time


with our big open black eyes towards the night

and our paws.






.