Yellow headed new boy in
the kitchen moving as though
movement were a consequence of
living in air thick
air the smaller you get
the thicker it is his
eyes are thick mouth too
in the kitchen
where he's moving over
and over movement is
a consequence he's a
consequence of my interminable
looking in there over there
through there I can't
stop looking its a consequence
of my still eyes he's there
to fill the space he's folding
bread into cranes pleating
lettuce he still moves all yellow
from head to shirt his
legs don't exist I don't
want them
to.
I keep looking it's a
consequence of light
getting thicker
as I
grow small.
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