anthill
you slice speakers
into your dna 

  _-_-_

bending tree the cold doesn’t bring you back

_-_-_

failing to find a grip
the seahorse moves
with the current 

_-_-_

with the phone’s light
he inspects
the side of the car

_-_-_

glass ceiling
we place hippos
above us

_-_-_

with measuring spoons
you become a squid