With skin I'm looking back
on bulbous bedposts.
Like drops of wood
plopped and frozen
in my mind.

I keep a count
I keep things rowed up
for sake of time.
I keep a count
they freeze like fire.
I am sly.

I am burning now
and oozing
I creep like sap
like sap that's hunting.
It could be night.

But soon I'm walking
and I'm a whisper.
Like steam
I'm rising gone.