what’s the difference
between a rock and a stone
thought the ant
pushing against purposes
like a dot - marking sentences
ordering the knots
like a fading spot satelite yacht
no brighter than a spore in the rot
between floors
between the walls
somewhere lies repentance
the ant thought -
not a lot.
Sort of maybe
chewing over things
crooked English teeth
tease chipped-tip flesh
I can’t resist
I bite the mouth
that feeds.
It comforts me -
peeling tender skin,
the kind within, beneath.
There is no rush
so I must desist
to bite this mouth
that feeds.
I watched you
just like you said
watched every twitch
every gesture
every shake
and yes - I could see -
see what you were thinking,
wanting, expecting
you were dipping your smile
down and to the left again
your singing mouth
briefly stilling;
a nod, a tilt,
a subtle slant
and I thought I knew.
O.K - I’ll admit
I looked away -
lost my track
but only then
I felt.
You,
watching
me.