[INTEMISSION IX] Infinitesimality

I was fond of telling you

Anything that you would tell me to.

I can tell where anything is buried,

Notches in a forked branch,

Can’t you see?

The dowsing is pointing me.

Collecting underground,

Filling in and filing out,

Right into the leaves,

Obfuscating holes in ground.

Looking up from the trap that you set,

Let me out, you cowards, I’m not finished yet.

Knowing I could find you anywhere,

I took a souvenir

And I got out of there,

Lnowing I could find you anywhere

Made it easy to forget

Who I used to be when I said

What I meant.

I thought that once I mourned it would be gone

But I was wrong,

It stretches to the forest I came out of,

Weathered any storm in those trees,

Comfort from the infinitesimality,

That clings to me.

Now without you,

It all falls apart.

Not above dealing damage myself, I

Cut them down and piled them up to keep me dry.

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