Your answer’s sought through
invocation again tonight.
I am tired with a headache;
I forgot to take my meds—
so, I worry causality’s beads.
No doubt, that is a symptom—
one I refuse to, again, look up.
And even that bit of agency,
that bit of non-conformity,
is another sign, another template
through which to bend a metaphor,
until what I knew I know again
like ouroboros devouring the skin
it sheds across a forest’s floor
where there are no trees
to help find one’s way back,
and I don’t know what to do.
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