seed fluff billows
across the black mat

(inhale
jump back
chaturanga)

so much
for so little
for so much

immaterial
globe, a memory
of lost focus

dream
of a body, as wind
seeking structure

the velvet blue
of a butterfly wing

i don’t know why
things are shaped
the way they are

sent
published, and yet
anecdotal

birds who can’t fly
insects without words

studying
to be, a container
for the already

understanding
it is needful
to be broken

//