Within is without, without
is not within,
brine the tit,
mysterious bird feathers
the bed a gust emerges
black floaters tersed
in unknown billow
as the cat licks maple
crushes shins,
settles in again.
We pretend inference,
depart from rhythm,
call it movement,
transition,
the escape route is forward.
Niceties for the ageless
easily laughing,
a slow trust and animal
bee of heft
or method duck, mature nature
sucking clean my will,
a plate of bones
to tune on the round top,
get up
tuck chair into table.
Red turf in blocks,
I fold my hands
into my lap,
take brackish sip
of water,
wipe my mouth,
what will become
of the word
when choice is understood
as free will,
all seed, all witness,
the blunt force
of the image.