I crack my back every time I see him.
and a rat hides in my pocket wherever I go
and a wall of iron lines my lungs
and an atlas beetle eats at my stomach lining
I crack my back every time I see him.
as he is a mongoose covered in tics
and I am the rabbit
rotting from the inside out
I crack my back every time I see him.
he guards the steps to the air
and despite being steps, they require a latter
to reach upmost tranquility
I crack my back every time I see him.
I am ground-level
where there are ants and bees and mice and tics
and the people are friendlier, though we don't know why
he cracks his back every time he sees me
perhaps because together
we are a weasel.
