you point out the arbitrary things in nature

enchanted by the halcyon bird, the brittle leaf

(disappointed when it doesn’t crunch under your sketchers,

not nearly as much as you anticipated)

in the middle of my name

as if i constantly have something to solve

Find x.

but i can’t tell if my hatred

is of you, the letter, or of you, the failure

Find x.

x: the “something” about myself

i am still trying to find

Highlighting.

That’s how I take life in

I highlight quotes

Or words in a book

Trying to keep them with me

Forever.

I mentally highlight the things people do,

Trying to understand their reasoning

But I can't highlight you.

spore pulsing

in fertile dark

dark-eyed junco nesting in lilies

fern nesting in fern nesting in fractal

curled selfward in a repetition

that is, to the naked eye, endless

identity matrix